The Water is Wide
by Rachel Greenwood
Summary: The ship doesn't sink, but that doesn't mean things will go smoothly for Jack and Rose. She isn't just engaged to Cal; she's already married to him. Can they escape together, or will he keep them apart? And will he find some unlikely allies?
1. Chapter 1

"Don't do it."

Rose whipped her head around to see who had spoken. She was surprised to see a good-looking young man. Sandy blonde hair fell over bright blue eyes. He stood at a distance, a cigarette in his hand. "Stay back," she said, her voice shaking. She turned and looked down. "I mean it. I'll let go." He slowly inched forward before tossing the cigarette into the water. "No, you won't," he said calmly, looking into her face.

"What do you mean no, I won't?" she cried, outraged. "Don't presume to tell me what I will and will not do. You don't know me!"

"Well, you woulda done it already," he said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

"You're distracting me! Go away!"

But he didn't.

….

"It's my whole world, and all the people in it. And the inertia of my life! It's plunged ahead, and I was powerless to stop it." She held out her left hand. A large diamond ring sat beneath a thick wedding band. "God, lookat that thing," Jack said, laughter in his voice. "You'da gone straight to the bottom."

"We've only been married eight months, and it feels like eight decades," she said, sounding as though she were talking to herself rather than to him. "I'll be the Queen of Philadelphia Society, but I just feel like I'm standing in the middle of a crowded room screaming, and no-one even looks up." Her eyes were wide, almost pleading. Jack studied her face. "Do you love 'im?" he asked.

"Pardon me?"

"Do you love him?"

"Well, you're being very rude. You shouldn't be asking me this."

"It's a simple question. Do you love the guy or not? Why did you marry him?"

"You are rude and uncouth and presumptuous—This is not a suitable conversation at all," Rose said. "You don't know me, and I don't know you, and we are not having this conversation at all." She held out her hand for him to shake. "Jack—Mr. Dawson, it's been a pleasure. I sought you out to thank you, and now I have thanked you—"

He grinned. "And you've insulted me."

"Well," she said, slightly stunned, "You deserved it." She tried to let go of his hand but couldn't. She didn't want to let go of it; she didn't want to leave, either. But she couldn't stay. Could she?

…..

"Why can't I be like you, Jack?" Rose said wistfully. "Just head out for the horizon whenever I feel like it. Say we'll go there sometime, to that pier. Even if we only ever just talk about it." Jack grinned. "No, we'll do it," he said. "We'll drink cheap beer. We'll ride the roller coaster 'til we throw up." She laughed. It was such an absurd notion, and yet she wished fervently that it could happen. "And we'll ride horses on the beach," he said. "Right in the surf. But you gotta do it like a real cowboy, none of that side saddle stuff."

"You mean…one leg on each side?" she asked, incredulous.

"Yeah."

"Can you show me?"

"Sure. If you like."

Rose smiled. "Teach me to ride like a man," she said. Jack took on a thick country accent. "And chew tobacco like a man," he said. Rose searched for an appropriate response. "And—and spit like a man," she said, failing to fully imitate his accent.

"What, they didn't teach you that in finishing school?"

"No!"

"Well, c'mon, I'll show you," he said, taking her hand. She half-heartedly fought his attempt to lead her. "Jack, no!" she cried through clenched teeth. "Wait, Jack! I couldn't possibly, Jack!" But she did.

….

Rose's heart pounded. It was dangerous meeting Jack like this. Just accepting the note was dangerous, but actually coming here, to him, that carried a whole new level of risk. She didn't know exactly what Cal would do if he found out, but she could imagine it. And yet, she didn't care. A force stronger than fear pulled her toward Jack. When he turned around and smiled she couldn't help but smile back.

"Wanna go to a real party?" he asked.

"Yes," she heard herself say.

Jack offered her his arm, and she accepted it gratefully. As soon as she touched him, her fear began melting away. Being near him made her so…happy. It was like nothing she had ever experienced before. It wouldn't last. How could it? But she was going to try and enjoy it while she had it. She pushed away thoughts of Cal; for a few hours, he wouldn't exist. Besides, he would never know. Who would tell him? He had no reason to send Lovejoy after her, and she would be back in her room long before he returned to his.

"We're gonna have to get a little bit closer," Jack said, putting his hand on her back. "Like this," he explained, pulling her toward him. She gasped; all she could do was stare at him, shocked. He grinned, and the dance began. "I don't know the steps," she said.

"Neither do I. Just go with it!"

Their bodies were so close; their stomachs pressed together. She could smell him. His hair smelled of soap and the sear air, his skin like a mixture of sweat, tobacco, soap, and the sea. It was a nice scent. There was something familiar about it. Jack was solid, even down to his scent, and it was comforting. Cal smelled of hair tonics, colognes, and expensive soaps. The purpose of his grooming rituals and potions was to make him more attractive, but Rose was repulsed by it. His skin was soft, but his hands were hard when they touched her. There was nothing easy about the way he held her. It was more like a man trying to keep something from escaping than a man embracing his wife.

Jack's arm was loose around her. Removing her hand from his would have been easy. He held her just close enough to show he wanted her. In fact, he wanted to pull her closer, to press her to him and fully breathe in the scent of her hair. But he didn't. He couldn't. She was someone else's wife, and it was bad enough he had asked her to come.

But I didn't make her come here….She's not happy.

Rose laughed as they began to spin. "Jack, no!" she yelled, making no attempt to move away from him. She was to beautiful in that moment, more so than he had realized. His laughter mingled with hers.

I could make her happy.

…..

Rose knew something was wrong the moment she stepped into the room for breakfast. She hated having meals alone with Cal, but both he and her mother insisted upon it. He watched her cross the room and sit down. They began eating in tense silence.

"I hoped to see you again last night," he said.

"I was tired." She kept her voice and expression flat. Sometimes it made things easier, although there was no way of knowing how he would react to anything. Sometimes, he seemed to hate it when she cried or showed fear or pain. He was quick to apologize then, to offer explanations and gifts to make it up to her. Of course, his explanations always centered on how she had provoked him and how it wasn't his fault. "I hit you, because I love you," he had once said, and she had never forgotten it. It didn't make things any better, but in a twisted way, it made sense. After those incidents, he would be particularly nice to her for a while. However, there were other times when he seemed to enjoy her suffering.

"Your exertions below deck were no doubt exhausting," he said, a hint of sarcasm in his voice.

Rose didn't why know she did it. Maybe it was the memory of Jack's arms around her and how safe she felt next to him. "I see you had that manservant of your follow me. How typical," she said coolly, looking him in the eye. "I'm not a foreman in one of your mills that you can command." Her voice rose slightly. "I'm your wife."

He stared at her. "My—wife—" he sputtered. His voice became a yell. "My wife!" She froze in fear as he flipped the table over with one hand. "Yes, you are!" he went on, lunging toward her. "And you will honor me." She struggled to breathe. His face was inches from hers; his fingers dug into her arms. "You will honor me the way a wife is required to honor a husband," he said, a menacing softness in his tone. She lifted her chin and stared into his eyes. His lip curled, and he opened his mouth to speak but didn't. Instead, he turned and left.

….

"Jack, I can't see you," Rose said, moving to go back outside. "Please," he said desperately. "Rose…" She tried to look away from his eyes but couldn't. "Let me get this out," he pleaded. "You're no picnic. You're a spoiled little brat, even, but under that, you're the most amazingly, astoundingly wonderful girl—woman, that I've ever known. I'm not an idiot. I know how the world works. I've got ten bucks in my pocket, and nothing to offer you, and I know that! I understand. But I'm too involved now. You jump, I jump, remember? I can't turn away without knowing you'll be alright."

"I'm fine," she said shakily. "I'll be fine."

"Really? Because I don't think so. They've got you trapped, Rose, and you're gonna die if you don't break free. Maybe not right away because you're strong, but sooner or later, that fire that I love about you Rose—" He stroked her cheek with his thumb. She knew she should tell him to stop, but she didn't want him to. "That fire is gonna burn out," he finished. She placed her hand on his, and he paused, waiting to see what she would do next. Everything was in her hands, she realized. If she told him to go away and leave her alone forever, he would, and that's what she had to tell him to do. But instead she said, "I can't keep living this way."

"You don't have to."

She laughed. "Is it so simple? I wish it was."

"It is," he insisted. He took her face in his hands. It was a struggle not to kiss her. "What, you'll just take me with you?" she asked. "A spoiled little brat would certainly be an asset in your travels."

"Are you saying you'd go with me? You want to?"

If she said yes, out loud, there was no going back. She just wouldn't be able to go back, to keep living as Cal's wife. She moved closer to him. His gaze moved from her eyes to her lips and back again. The kiss was tentative at first; it slowly built in passion. Rose never wanted it to stop. She pressed her hand against the back of his neck. Jack's hands moved from her fact to her arms. He gave them a light squeeze, intending to move on to her waist, but her flinch of pain stopped him.

"Did I hurt you?" he asked.

"No," she said, with a shake of her head. "Of course not."

"You flinched," he pressed.

"It was nothing, really. I was just…overwhelmed. I—" She sucked in her breath as he pressed down on her upper arm, slightly harder than before. "I'm sorry," he said. "But don't say that didn't hurt. I just wanna know why."

"Can we not talk about it? Please, Jack, just leave it alone. It isn't important."

But he couldn't let it go. "He did it, didn't he?" he asked. Rose avoided his eyes. It was bad enough it had even happened, but having to talk about it was unbearable. Shame washed over her. Was she so weak she not only allowed herself to be pushed into a marriage she didn't want but also couldn't protect herself? But she had tried, hadn't she? Fighting him only made it worse, and her attempts to discuss the problem with her mother had all failed. Ruth always said she was exaggerating and scolded her for not behaving properly, and ended the lecture by telling her not to bring it up again. "He hits you, doesn't he?" Jack went on.

"I don't want to talk about it," she said. "Don't ask me to."

Emotions struggled within him—anger, frustration, sadness. He pressed his cheek against her hair and hugged her tightly. "You don't have to talk about it," he said. "And it won't happen again."


	2. Chapter 2

Where would they go? Promising to keep her safe was easy, but Jack knew actually doing it would be a challenge at best. There were only so many places they could go. Getting away from Cal would most likely involve staying on the move until the ship docked. So where would they sleep? His room was too obvious, even if there hadn't been three other men in it. He couldn't ask Rose to sleep on the floor, in some hidden corner. Could he?

There was no hope of the crew siding with them. Cal was a first class passenger; whatever he said went. There was no way around it. Rose might have shared his first class status on her ticket, but Jack knew no-one would take her word over his, not even with bruises covering her arms. They would probably blame him. They would say he'd tried to force her into going with him.

"Jack, what's wrong?"

"Nothing," he assured her. "Just thinking." He took her hand. "We should get going."

"Where?" She looked up at him with hopeful, trusting eyes. Wherever he led, she would follow. Jack was torn between joy that she trusted him and fear that he didn't deserve it. He couldn't be worthy of her. A woman like her deserved so much more than he could offer, and yet he was sure he could make her happy. He was sure no-one else would love her the way he did. No-one else would let her bloom the way he would. But in the meantime, he had to keep her safe.

"I don't know," he admitted. There would be no lying. They had to be honest with one another, always. "Do you want to get any of your things?" he asked. "Some more clothes, maybe?"

"We'll look rather odd together," she said. "Nothing I have is fit for any activity besides sitting around and being decorative. I'm afraid my clothes won't hold up very well. But I suppose I do need something else to wear." Her expression grew serious. "Do you think we should go there?"

"Rose, if you're afraid of Cal—"

"I am." She said it before she could stop herself. It was the first time she had ever said it out loud. She felt nauseated. When had things gotten so messed up? She was supposed to love her husband, not loathe him. She wasn't supposed to be afraid of him. She wasn't supposed to constantly wonder what mood he would be in or how he would react to everything. She wasn't supposed to love another man.

Jack held her face in his hands. "Don't be," he said. "Alright? I'm not gonna let him touch you again."

"Jack, you don't understand—"

"I understand he scares you, and he's hurt you, but that was before. Rose, trust me."

"It's not you I don't trust," she said. "Jack, you do know what he can do to you? What he'll have done to you? Forget about me. He can't have me killed. That would be too inconvenient." She smiled bitterly. "I'm the perfect wife. There would be too many questions. He needs me."

"He shoulda thought about that before," Jack said. "He shoulda treated you like a wife—like a person."

"And if I were your wife—" she began.

He kissed her, slowly and tenderly. Her knees were weak when it ended. "That's what you can expect," he said. "We gotta go."

…..

Ruth was the first to notice Rose's absence. As they rounded the next corner she realized Rose's voice was missing. Cal was at the head of the group, and if he had noticed anything, he didn't let it show. Slowly, so as not to arouse suspicion, Ruth glanced over her shoulder. No sign of her. Where had she gone, and why?

Ruth wore a mask of calm politeness, but emotions swirled within her. Rose was with _him;_ she had to be. What could she possibly be thinking? Didn't she appreciate the danger she was placing her marriage in? The humiliation she could cause them all? If Cal were to divorce her—No. Ruth took a deep breath and willed herself to remain calm. No, that was not going to happen. She mustn't let herself think such things. The marriage to Cal was the best thing that had ever happened to Rose—to either of them. Whether Rose liked it or not, they needed him. He wasn't like her father; he wouldn't desert her with nothing.

Mr. Andrews looked around. "Where's Rose?" he asked, surprised to find her missing. Cal glanced around the small group. Where, indeed?

"She went back to the cabin," Ruth said smoothly. "She wasn't feeling well, and she didn't want to disturb anyone. If you'll all excuse me, I'll go and make sure she got back alright."

As Cal watched Ruth leave a kernel of suspicion formed in the back of his mind. It was possible she was telling the truth, but how convenient that Rose should fall ill barely an hour after _he_ has tried to see her. He wouldn't have been surprised if Ruth was lying for her, but Cal knew she wasn't involved in whatever Rose was doing. Ruth could always be counted upon to do her duty. She knew what was best for Rose, even if Rose was too silly and naïve to know it herself. He trusted that everything would be worked out quickly and quietly, one way or another.

…

Rose's hands shook as she unlocked the door. Jack put an arm around her. "Five minutes," he said reassuringly. "There's nothing to worry about. After the tour your mother's going to tea, and he's going off with the other mastes of the universe, remember?"

She took a deep breath. "I remember," she said. "They must have noticed I'm gone by now, but they won't make a fuss. I know they won't." She was equally sure they would know why she was gone. There was no story she could tell to save either of them from what would happen if they were caught by Cal.

They moved quickly, tiptoeing across the empty rooms. Jack couldn't help but gaze in wonder at the opulence in which they loved. Each room was beautiful. For a moment, he wondered what it would be like to live in such luxury. Rose's voice pulled him back to reality. "Will you help me?" she asked. She opened a small suitcase and began pulling clothes from a wardrobe. She paid little attention to what she packed. Even her simplest dress was too ornate and too fragile for even a day in Jack's life, so what did it matter what she took?

"What do you need?"

"That drawer, there," she said, pointing. "Just get whatever will fit in the case. It's all the same."

"Right."

They moved quickly, and in minutes they were finished. Rose snapped the suitcase shut with a triumphant, "That's it!" Her hear pounded; her cheeks were flushed, though whether with excitement or fear, she didn't know. She turned to Jack and held out her hand. "Shall we go?" she asked. Her words tumbled out. "I'm hungry. Are you? I just realized I haven't eaten anything today." She laughed. "I couldn't before, but I think I can now."

Jack returned her smile. "I could eat," he said, glad to see her fear disappearing. "We'll get some food and figure out what to do next."

But their triumphant spirits had come too early. Ruth was waiting for them as they stepped out of the bedroom. Rose sucked in her breath; she couldn't move. Her hand felt like ice in Jack's. If her mother was there, Cal must be as well. Panic washed over her. She had been wrong. They hadn't just gone on with their usual routine. How could she have been so stupid? What had made her think this would be easy?

Jack's eyes moved from Rose to Ruth; he waited to see which would speak first. This was Rose's moment. He couldn't interfere. Finally, Ruth spoke. "Just as I suspected," she said. "I knew you would be with him." She spat "him" as though it were a curse. Rose stiffened; she gripped his hand even tighter. He moved closer in an effort to reassure her.

"Yes, I'm with him," Rose said. Her voice rang out, clear and strong. "He had a name, Mother. It's Jack. And I'm leaving with him."

Ruth couldn't believe her ears. "Have you completely taken leave of your senses?" she demanded. "How can you say something so foolish? Be glad your husband isn't here to see the way you're behaving."

"I am not a child," Rose said calmly. "I have made a decision about my life, and there's nothing anyone can do about it. I know how I want to live, and it isn't like this."

"Like what?" Ruth's tone was sharp. "Surrounded by fine things, wearing jewels and lovely dresses? Meeting the most intelligent, the most important people in the world? Rose, you are one of the move envied girls in America. You can have anything. Don't you see?" she pleaded. "You never have to worry about anything. You'll never be cold or hungry, never be without a doctor. Your children will be healthy and well-educated."

Jack tried not to let her words get to him, but they managed to anyway. Sue, he could make Rose happy, but could he keep her fed? Keep her clothed and warm? Ruth glanced at him. He kept his expression neutral and met her eyes.

"I don't want to be envied for someone else's money," Rose said. "I don't want to have everything decided for me, to live by someone else's whims."

"What do you think happens to the poor?" Ruth asked. "Do you think being destitute means getting to make your own choices? Just ask him. He knows. He'll tell you. Being poor is nothing but bowing and scraping to other people, and Rose, you're a woman. You can't move up on your own. You can't earn your own fortune. Your life is only as good as that of the man who takes care of you. You won't be young and beautiful forever. This life you want, it will age you. How long do you think he'll want you then?" \

Jack wanted to yell in response. He would never leave Rose. She didn't know anything about him. But he remained silent. He squeezed Rose's hand. "I don't want Jack to take care of me," Rose said. "I want us to take care of each other. I want to be with a man I can be friends with." She turned slightly, to look at him. "Jack is the best friend I have ever had." He wanted to pull her into his arms; he wanted to carry her out of there. "I want to be free, the way he is," she continued. "I want to wake up with him, ever morning, more in love than the day before. I know it's possible. It will be hard, harder perhaps than I realize, but I know we can do it."

"We'll do it," he whispered. As her strength built, her voice became more confident. "I don't want to be afraid anymore," she said. "I want to never stop wanting the man I'm with." They had both forgotten Ruth's existence.

"I'll never stop trying to make you happy," Jack promised. "Winning that ticket was the best thing that ever happened to me because it brought me to you."

Rose moved toward him. "Jack—"

"This nonsense has gone on long enough," Ruth cried angrily. "Rose, if you refuse to see what's best for you—well, I'll have to tell Cal where you've gone. You can't expect me to help you ruin your life."

"Mother, don't you see?" Rose implored. "I don't have a life. I'm dying!"

"You always were a dramatic child," Ruth said. "You never could accept the roles and responsibilities you were given. I won't be responsible for what happens if you leave now. Your husband has the right to bring you back. Don't say I didn't warn you."

….

They walked quickly, even though they didn't know where they were going anymore. They held hands, but they were silent. Rose carried her suitcase. Jack wanted to offer to take it but wasn't sure he should. "Rose, what your mother said—"

"I'm sorry for the way she talked to you—about you," Rose interrupted. "You didn't deserve that."

"You don't have to apologize for her," he said. "I've heard worse. And it—some of what she said, it's true. Rose, I have _nothing_ to offer you. I have nothing, no money, no job, no family—I have nowhere to go once we get to New York. "

"I'd rather sleep under a bridge with you than in the finest hotel with Cal," she said. "Please, Jack, don't doubt me. Don't doubt us. I can't do this alone. I'm just as afraid as you are, but I trust this—" She clutched his hands tightly and looked up into his eyes. "What's happening between us, it's real, and it's strong, and nothing can stop it. As long as we're together in our hearts, nothing can ever really part us. The only thing that can come between us is each other. You jump, I jump, remember?"

"I remember." There was so much he wanted to say, but words weren't enough. He pulled her close and kissed her, pouring everything he felt into it. They were both gasping when it finally ended. "So, now what?" she said. She wanted him to kiss her again; she wanted him to never stop kissing her. She had never felt like this before.

"Are you still hungry?" he asked.

"Actually, I am."


	3. Chapter 3

**AN: The plot should really get rolling with the next chapter, but I hope you like this one anyway.**

The Third Class dining room was exactly the way Rose expected it would be. The talk was louder, more energetic, the food smelled better, and the people were so much more alive than those in First Class. The different accents mingled together like musical notes. Rose didn't think she had ever heard anything sound so lovely. She tried not to stare, but she couldn't stop herself. There were just so many different types of people, and not only that, there was such a sense of community. No-one seemed to be a stranger to anyone else. People had always been polite to her. All Rose's life, she had watched people be polite to one another, cordial even, but she had never had a close friend. Her mother's friends had always appeared lukewarm with one another, at best. They returned one another's invitations and expressed happiness at meeting again, but their talk was always light and safe. If they ever spoke of personal things, mulled over problems, or shared secrets, Rose never heard it. Now, for the first time, she began imagining herself with a close friend, another woman to talk to. Watching the women around her, it finally seemed possible.

She couldn't remember what she ate, but she knew it was unlike anything she had ever eaten before. She tried not to look surprised or confused at the plate Jack set before her, and after a few bites, she decided she never wanted to eat another gourmet meal again. Jack watched her with interest. She hadn't spoken since they sat down, but he saw a world of thoughts in her eyes. He was content to watch her take in her new surroundings. He didn't expect her to feel comfortable yet; how could she? But so far, she didn't appear to regret being there. That was enough for him.

"Hey, Jack!" He looked up, startled by the sound of Fabrizo's voice. Before he could respond, Fabrizo and Tommy were sitting in the empty chairs, one by him and one by Rose. "Where've you been?" Tommy asked. His eyes widened as he recognized Rose. "Oh," he said, surprised.

Rose's stomach fluttered nervously. Tommy and Fabrizo had both been nice to her at the dance, but did that mean they would be now? Things had been different then. They had all been drinking and having fun. She was just the pretty girl Jack had brought to the party. Now, she was the married woman he was helping leave her husband. For him. Rose knew what her mother and her friends would say about a woman in her situation, but she didn't know what these men would say. She smiled, hiding any trace of anxiety. "Hello, Tommy," she said graciously. "Fabrizo."

Tommy flashed her a charming grin. Fabrizo smiled back, but there was hesitation. His dark eyes studied Rose carefully. Just who was this girl, really? Why was she there? He knew Jack was crazy about her. It had begun the afternoon when they first saw her. Jack had been riveted by her. They had joked about how he would never even come near her, and yet, here she was, eating lunch with him just like she belonged there. Fabrizo had no reason to dislike Rose; she seemed like a nice girl, and she clearly made Jack happy. But he felt uneasy. She wasn't just any girl. It was bad enough she was married, but to a rich man, no less, and from the little Jack had told them, he wouldn't take this well. Leave it to Jack to choose the most unreachable girl and then actually go get her. He just hoped Jack didn't find himself regretting it.

"So, you're down here with us today, huh?" Tommy said. "Doesn't really compare, does it?"

"No," Rose said. "It's better here."

"You've gotta be kidding," Tommy said, incredulous.

"I'm not," she insisted. "I can breathe here." As she said it, Jack caught her eyes. Her heart beat faster. Tommy and Fabrizo watched their silent exchange with interest and amusement. Finally. Tommy nudged Fabrizo with his elbow and said, "Ya ever see anything like it? They're just frozen."

A blush crept over Rose's cheeks, and she turned her gaze away from Jack. "You jealous?" Jack asked Tommy. "Want somebody looking at you?"

"I got plenty of girls looking at me," Tommy shot back. "More than enough. Why, I got five on this ship alone."

"You don't," Fabrizo said. "He likes to brag," he explained to Rose. "And, uh, exaggerate. Don't listen."

"Oh, does he?" Rose said, amused. "I suppose that's good to know."

Jack watched their conversation. He was glad they were getting along, but he couldn't shake a slight uneasiness. He wanted his friends to like Rose, especially Fabrizo, and he wanted her to fit into his world. But what if his world wouldn't let her? What if it didn't want her there? At dinner, he had charmed nearly everyone at the table. They had laughed at his stories and acted interested in his life, but Jack knew that didn't mean he belonged. He was new and different, a diversion for the evening. Associating with him for a couple of hours was fine, but it wouldn't become a habit. He would never be recognized by most of those people if they saw him again, and that was how they wanted it. Everyone had a place, and his was down below, out of sight, and preferably working for them. Jack knew they weren't the only ones who thought that way. No matter what dress she wore, Rose would always be a First Class girl. It was in the way she spoke and the way she carried herself. She simply wasn't part of the group, and not everyone would accept her trying to join.

In fact, Jack had begun noticing curious glances being sent their way. He knew they were because of Rose. He couldn't help grinning, proud to be seen with her in spite of his fears. _She chose me._

"So, you're staying with us, then?" Fabrizo asked. Rose nodded. "I planned to," she said. "I hope I'm not intruding. Jack told me the two of you have been traveling together. I don't want to be in the way. I'll try not to be, though I'm afraid I will be, at times. It must be so easy for two men alone." Fabrizo was struck not only by her sincerity but also her sadness. She seemed to almost shrink into herself when she talked about being in the way. He wondered where that came from. "I'm going to contribute," she added. "Somehow."

It was obvious she really did care for Jack, and Fabrizo believed she really did want to be an equal part of the group. She didn't expect to be taken care of. No, she wasn't a bad girl by any means, and he didn't mind having her around. But she wasn't the problem. Her husband was.

…

"This is your room?" Rose said, looking around the small space. It was barely half the size of her bedroom. It felt cramped and claustrophobic . She wondered how Jack could sleep there. She couldn't imagine feeling comfortable with three other people in it. "Yeah," he said over his shoulder. "Impressive, huh?" he added with a grin.

"It's very nice," she replied. He finished packing his bag and slung it over his shoulder. "You don't hafta say that," he said, turning to her. "I know it's nothing like what you're used to."

"Well—no," she admitted. "It isn't, but it's not so bad. I can't imagine how you turn around when you're all here."

He chuckled. "We don't."

She allowed herself a smile. "Where are—where am I sleeping?" she asked quickly. The reality of what she was doing began sinking in. She had left Cal—for another man and for herself. And of course she and Jack would sleep together, wouldn't they? He wouldn't expect it. But no, she decided, no, he wouldn't.

"We're gonna find somewhere else," he said. "Our own place. Though, uh, we don't have to be together if you don't want to. I was just thinking my room's pretty easy to find. It's probably the first place Cal would look."

"I hadn't thought of that," she said. She sighed. "I'm starting to worry there are many things I haven't thought of yet."

He moved closer. "Like what?" he asked, placing his hands lightly on her arms.

"We really have nothing," she said. "And I don't know how to do _anything_. I'm absolutely useless, Jack."

"Hey, listen to me," he said. "You are _not_ useless. I don't want to hear you saying that. You can do anything you want to. If you want to learn how to do something, you can. I'll help you. You think I was born knowing how to do stuff? Rose, you shoulda seen me the first year I was on my own. I didn't know anything. I'd spent my life in the woods, going to town sometimes, but mostly learning how to farm and live off the land. I didn't even really go to school. My mom taught me things. But I learned how to travel, how to make it. I'm not sayin it was easy, but I did it."

"What if I don't know what I want to do?" she asked. "What if I want to do everything?"

"Everything, huh?"

"Everything."

"We'll figure somethin out then," he said. "There's nothin we can't do together."

She was too conscious of his hands on her arms. His touch was gentle but firm. She wondered what he would do if she stepped closer. Would he push her away? Hold her? He was still talking, but she couldn't focus on the words. Her eyes were fixed on his mouth. No man had ever had a mouth like his. The longing to kiss him again pressed on her like an ache from deep inside. Before she could stop herself, she placed a hand on the back of his neck. And then she was kissing him, more passionately than ever, but still, with a restraint. She was afraid of what would happen if she gave in to the full force of her desire. Women weren't supposed to feel this way, or were they? Her mother had always said they didn't. No, it was ladies she had always referred to. Ladies didn't feel desire. They didn't think about the way a man's skin felt or the smell of his hair. Ladies didn't have aching needs they didn't know how to explain or satisfy.

In that regard, Rose had always been perfect. And yet, Cal was often dissatisfied with her. He didn't say it, but she knew. What could she do about it? Whatever desires he had, whatever pleasures he got from her, she didn't share them. Indifferent was the best reaction she could summon, and that was when he was in a good mood, when he seemed to want her to share in it, if only a little.

She sensed Jack was holding back. His hands had slipped down to her waist, but he wasn't pulling her any closer. She pressed herself against him, wrapping her arms around his neck. He was so solid. If she let herself fall, he would catch her.

His hands moved over her back. He twisted her dress between his fingers. "Rose," he whispered thickly, moving his lips down her cheek and to her neck. She gasped. Nothing had ever felt so good. It was as if he were touching every inch of her. The ache worsened. She wanted more, but she wasn't sure what that would be. Her knees wobbled, but Jack held her steady. She took a step, nudging him back. He raised his head and gave her a questioning look. She sat down on the edge of his bed and tugged his hand.

He felt even closer now. Their legs were touching. His arm was around her. He wasn't just holding her hand; he was caressing it. His eyes burned into hers. They seemed even bluer now. "Jack," she said. "I want you to keep kissing me."

He tried to sound flippant. "I can do that."

She brought his hand up to her cheek. He watched, breathlessly, as she laid her cheek against his knuckles. She turned his hand over, and looking into his eyes, kissed his palm. He shivered; her lips were smooth and cool. She kissed his fingertips, one by one.

It took all of Jack's strength to remain still. He couldn't push her. Even more than with other girls, he felt a responsibility toward her. He knew instinctively that no-one had ever taken the time to kiss her properly, let alone make love to her the way she deserved. There was no doubt in his mind Cal didn't appreciate her. He wasn't grateful just to be next to her, to touch her hand. But Jack was. And he would let her lead him to where she wanted to go.

Rose saw tenderness mingled with desire in his eyes. It was a look she had never seen before. He was so patient. Her confidence increased. "Jack, I want you to put your hands on me," she said softly. When he hesitated, she guided his hand to her breast. His lips crashed into hers. She let herself fall back onto the bed, pulling him down with her. Every nerve in their bodies was on fire. She fumbled with the buttons on his shirt before finally managing to undo them. He shrugged out of it. His skin was warm under her hands. There were fine, blonde hairs on his chest. He was slim and wiry but well-toned and muscular in places. His chest and arms were the same golden brown as his face and hands. Images of Jack working in the sun, shirtless, filled her mind. Her breathing quickened.

She rained herself slightly and began undoing the buttons on the back of her dress. Jack waited silently. He moved back and let her slip out of it. She tossed it onto the floor; her shoes followed. "You wear too many layers," he said, trying to make a joke. She laughed. "You should try it sometime."

"How do you breathe in that?"

"It isn't always easy," she said. "You have to learn how."

Slowly, giving her plenty of time to stop him, Jack began unlacing her corset. She sighed in relief when it was off. He leaned in and kissed her. She pulled her camisole over her head. She held her breath, waiting for his reaction. Jack could only gaze at her. She was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. He lightly ran his fingertips across her stomach. "Are you sure you want to be doing this?" he asked.

"Yes," she answered.

He kissed her without restraint. She pressed him closer. Nothing had ever felt like this. He kissed her throat and then her shoulders. She gasped when he reached her breasts. What was he doing? His mouth—his hands—was he supposed to be doing that? She twisted her fingers in his hair. It didn't matter; she just wanted him to never stop. His hands were on her hips, and he was looking into her eyes. "You stopped," she said. A smile flickered on his face. Slowly, he slid off her underwear. Now, he was kissing her belly; his hands were on her thighs. And then—"Jack." It was more moan than word. "What are you…" She couldn't speak. She could only cling to him.


	4. Chapter 4

Rose gasped for air. She was only dimly aware of Jack's arms around her. He pressed his lips to her cheek. Slowly, she noticed her body trembling. Jack caressed her face with his fingertips. His eyes were dark pools of love and desire. "What did you do?" she managed to ask. "I've never—I've never felt anything like that."

He grinned, satisfied, and kissed her cheek again. "All I did was kiss you," he replied.

"Is that what you call it?" she asked, incredulous. " _That_ came from a kiss?" A light blush covered her face. "Is that what you call it when you—when you do what you did?"

"That's what I call it."

"I didn't know anyone did such things," she said. "Or that it could be so—so—I don't know how to describe it. Words aren't enough; none of them are strong enough for what I felt. Jack, thank you," she said warmly.

"You don't hafta thank me." He softly kissed her lips. "I like making you feel good," he whispered. He kissed her again, more deeply this time. She wrapped her arms around him and pulled him onto her. They kissed feverishly. He shifted his weight, and she felt him pressing against her thigh. She stifled a gasp.

Rose's fears were gone. She didn't care what was proper behavior and what wasn't anymore. There was no trace of the revulsion she felt when Cal's body pressed against hers. There was only the exquisite ache, though why it persisted, she didn't know. She was certain the pleasure she had already experienced couldn't be duplicated.

But she was wrong. Jack seemed able to read her thoughts. He was actually just following the cues she gave him. Her legs pressed against his hips, setting his pace. Her nails dug into his back; his name came out as a groan. He looked down into her eyes. Damp curls clung to her neck. Her cheeks were red. She tried to match his movements with her own.

"You're perfect," he gasped. "You're everything."

…..

Jack never wanted to move. His head lay on Rose's shoulder. Her arms were around his neck; her fingers brushed through his hair. Their legs were intertwined. He had never been so content in his life. His mind was clear of everything but her. He'd thought he had made love before, but now he knew he had been mistaken. Nothing he had experienced compared to this. In those moments, they had been one. Their bodies had come together to form a whole; it was as if they were destined to be together. They had been made for each other.

Jack never wanted to stop touching her. Just holding her hand was enough. He felt safe and happy when she was near. It was unlike anything he had felt in a long time. It was almost like he was back home again, before his parents died and he still had a home. He never regretted taking on the life of a wandered. The road had beckoned, and he had been glad to answer its call. Home was wherever he lay his head, or so he had thought. Now, he realized, home was wherever Rose was.

Jack sighed, "We have to get up," he said quietly.

"I know," she replied. She kissed his forehead.

They dressed quickly. There was no awkwardness between them; the comfort they felt with one another had only increased.

Once they were in the corridor, Rose couldn't help wondering if the people they passed could read her feelings on her face. Did they sense she and Jack were in love? Could they tell how sublimely happy she was? Anxiety began casting a shadow over her joy. Could they tell what had just passed between them? Taking a lover was wrong; it was supposed to leave a woman wracked with guilt. She was a bad woman now; no-one, especially not a man, would ever respect her again. And yet, she didn't care. Rose felt no guilt about what she had done or about what she was doing. Why should she? What power did words like "husband" and "wife" have compared to the power of what she felt for Jack? Had Cal been a good husband, perhaps she would have felt differently, but he wasn't, so Rose refused to dwell on the world's opinions.

They walked in an amiable silence. They had no particular destination. Jack had said they would find a place of their own, and Rose trusted they would do so eventually. There were only a few days left until they docked in New York. She told herself they could make it until then. Cal would come looking for her or send Lovejoy after her; she had no illusions about that, but it was the largest ship ever built. There were thousands of hidden corners and nooks; it would take him weeks to look through them all, if he even found them. And it wasn't as though they intended to remain still and make it easier for him. All they really needed, she decided, was a place to sleep. It might actually be better to spend their days in public parts of the ship. Cal would never risk his reputation by causing a public scene, not even over her.

Cal liked things neat and orderly. He liked routines. He was, as Rose well knew, capable of strong passions and overwhelming emotions, but he kept them hidden whenever possible. She suspected that despite the outward perfection of his life, he was actually a rather unhappy man. Why else would he feel compelled to control everything, down to the books she read? Even in his most tender moments there was a distance between them. Cal had never spoken about his childhood, the often tense relationship with his father, or the older brother whose death overshadowed his life. Rose had been forced to gather what information she could and infer the rest.

His proposal had been brief. She had known it was coming; she had dreaded the inevitable event, knowing she couldn't refuse, no matter how much she longed to. The diamond had glittered mockingly. It weighed down her hand when he put it on. It was cold and didn't sit comfortably on her finger. She wanted to take it off as soon as it was on.

Cal had smiled, clearly pleased with himself. What woman in her right mind would refuse such a ring? Or the man who could give her a ring just like it for each finger? His father opposed the match but not strongly enough to take steps against it. Rose's youth and beauty spoke highly in her favor, even if her family had fallen on difficult times, as his mother so politely described it. Her father's inability to manage either his businesses or his family's estate was an open secret and had been for years. Ruth pretended no-one else know, and out of politeness—and in some cases affection—the fiction was gone along with. It was the least they could do for the poor woman, her friends said.

Rose had just stared at him, unable to speak. "I know it's rather soon," he said. "But I don't see any point in waiting. This is a perfect match. Why put it off?"

She nodded and forced herself to smile. "You're right," she said. "Why prolong the inevitable?"

Jack glanced at her. She was lost in thought. Her face worse an expression of quiet concentration. He wanted to ask what she was thinking about but didn't. So much had happened so quickly, it was best they took some time for themselves. Without intending to, he had begun creating a list of things he swore to himself he would never do with—or too—her; it was a sort of unconventional wedding vow. Near the top of the list, he had put, "Never force her to talk." He planned to say the entire list when they got married. He was sure they would get married, eventually. As soon as she divorced Cal. That would be no easy task, but it wouldn't be impossible. He would fight it, but he couldn't drag Rose back by her hair. He might try, but Jack was determined not to let him.

There was always the possibility that he would never give her a divorce, out of spite, but Jack doubted that would happen. Men like Cal needed heirs, and for those they needed wives. He would have to remarry eventually, and until that day came, Jack was happy to live with Rose on whatever terms necessary.

Twice before Jack had thought he was in love. There had been a girl back home. Lucy was tall and blonde, with deep grey eyes. In the summer she turned as brown as he did. Her family owned the farm next to his family's farm, and they grew up seeing each other often. She was only younger by a few months. Unlike him, she wasn't an only child, but rather, was one of five children. She was the only girl. Everyone expected them to get married someday, and their parents looked on the idea fondly, imagining the two farms united with Jack and her brothers growing ever more prosperous with each passing year.

She was his equal in nearly everything, which Jack didn't mind. He had often felt affectionate toward her, but never once had he felt protective toward her. There was something about her that resisted being taken care of. She wasn't masculine; she was just so clearly capable of handling anything. Rose wasn't weak; her strength was one of the things he loved most about her. But she let him care for her. Lucy had invited his fumbling caresses but spurned his attempts at helpfulness, his small attentions. Growing up with four brothers, she constantly felt the need to prove herself. Jack understood that and even admired it about her, but now he realized he needed to give that kind of attention to the woman he loved. And Rose would give it back to him. He'd known that even before she said so.

Jack hadn't thought of Lucy in years. The last time he remembered thinking of her had been sometime during his second summer away. He was in California then. He saw a girl who looked like her, and for a second he was sure it was her. But he got closer, and of course, it wasn't. Lucy would never leave Wisconsin. Hadn't she made that clear?

 _March 1907_

 _Wisconsin_

 _Lucy's eyes flashed. "What do you mean you're leaving?" she demanded. "You can't leave! Where will you go?"_

 _Jack shrugged. "I don't know," he said. "Right now, I don't care. I've gotta get out of here."_

 _Her tone softened. "Jack, I know how you feel." She laid a hand on his. "But—"_

 _He jerked away from her touch. "You don't know how I feel!" he cried. "You can't. Nothing like this has ever happened to you. You still have your whole family; you've never lost anyone."_

 _Lucy's eyes filled with tears. "I'm losing you now," she snapped. "Doesn't that count?"_

 _Jack reached for her. "I'm sorry," he said, pulling her into a hug. "None of this is your fault. I shouldn't be takin it out on you. You've been great."_

 _She held him tightly. "I know you're upset," she said. "You're right. I don't know what you're doing through. But that's no reason to do something you'll regret. Jack, you can't just throw your life away! How'll you survive if you leave? You don't know anyone; you have no money."_

" _So?" He sounded more confident than he felt. "I'll figure somethin out." He lifted her head. "You're not losing me," he said. "You could come with me. You're the only person who really matters to me now."_

" _I can't do that. Do you know what my family would do if I ran away with you?" she asked. "My brothers would kill you. Really, truly kill you. But if you stay…" She looked up at him pleadingly. "We can still be together. In a couple of years—"_

" _I can't," he said. "Lucy, I'm sorry. I know what we've always said, but things are different now. I just—I can't stay here." He sighed. "I'll die if I don't go. I know how it sounds, but it's true. I don't want to end up like—I don't want to die never having seen anything but this place, those couple of streets in town, these same fields, every day. You can understand that, can't you?"_

 _There was an edge in her voice meant to disguise her pain. "When are you going?"_

" _Day after tomorrow," he answered._

" _You're not wasting any time," she said._

" _Lucy—"_

" _No. Just don't talk about it anymore, Jack." She kissed him. "Let me enjoy the time we still have together."_

 _Present_

Every door they tried was either locked or led to a room that couldn't be used as a hideaway. Finally, as Jack was beginning to give up, they opened a door that led down a series of stairs. They exchanged glances. "Shall we go down?" Rose asked.

"Can't hurt to see what's down there."

Once at the bottom, they found themselves in the ship's cavernous cargo hold. It was colder down there. There were no heaters, and the entire area was under water. Rose shivered. Jack slipped out of his coat and draped it across her shoulders.

"Thank you," she said gratefully. "Won't you need it?"

"I'm fine," he assured her. "I shouldn't even be wearing it. It's not mine."

"It isn't?"

"I found it outside," he admitted. "When I was comin to talk to you. I was trying to disguise myself. Cal had already sent that Lovejoy guy to keep me away from you. I kinda forgot I was even wearing it."

"We should take it back," Rose said. "Whoever owns it is probably looking for it. Although, the First Class decks are probably not a place we need to be. Unless, he wouldn't think to look there. We'd have to be crazy to hide in plain sight like that." She felt the too familiar grip of anxiety. It was just a coat; the owner probably thought he lost it. But what if the owner were overzealous and reported it stolen? Cal would be looking for any way to get Jack away from her, and that might be enough. Jack wasn't afraid of him; he even seemed to underestimate him. But Jack also didn't know, firsthand, what Cal was capable of.

She had experienced his anger over trivial matters, like wearing the wrong dress or not smiling enough at a party. She shuddered to think what his rage would be like if he caught them. To her relief, Jack said, "Yeah, you're right. We'll leave it outside somewhere so someone can find it."

"I brought my coat," she said, setting down her suitcase. "It's in here somewhere." She set the borrowed coat on a crate and dug through her suitcase until she found hers. "You have one, right?" she asked. "I saw you in it, the night we met."

He patted his bag. "In here. But, I told you, I'm fine. I'll get it out if I get cold."

She took his hand as they set off to explore. The vast room was a maze of boxes and crates. Jack's eyes lit up when they saw the car. "What do we have here?" he said.

Amused by his enthusiasm, Rose let him pull her toward the gleaming Renault. He inspected it, careful not to touch it and leave a smudge. Rose couldn't help but smile. His excitement over something that wasn't even his was adorable. He was like a child looking at a beloved toy through a store window, content just to be near it. "Can you drive?" she asked.

He shook his head. "I wanna learn," he said. "I haven't had a chance yet. Probably hafta get a job as a chauffeur before I'll get it."

"You don't know that. I read in a few years everyone will have a car. They'll be affordable enough that anyone can buy one."

"You believe that?" he said. "Think even we'll be able to afford one like this?"

"I don't know," she replied. "Maybe. Anything's possible." She looked from the car to him. "Jack, what if we slept here?"

"Down here? It's pretty cold for sleeping, and I'm not sure how comfortable that'd be."

"In the car," she explained. "We can sleep inside. No-one will be able to see us if we're lying down. It's better than a floor. Cal probably won't think to look down here, not for a while at least."

"That's not a bad idea. Rose, you're a genius."

…

They left their bags in the car and went back to his room in search for blankets. Jack wished they'd brought them to begin with, but two people wandering around with luggage would be suspicious enough. Secretly, he'd been hoping they would find an empty room somewhere, with a bed. Now that they knew where they were going, it didn't take long to get back to his room. They stripped his bunk. There was an extra blanket under each set of bunks. They took them both. Their loot under their arms, they hurried down the corridor, doing their best not to draw attention to themselves. It was dinnertime, so the corridors were mostly empty. Rose breathed a sigh of relief when they reached the hold.

She perched on a crate near the car. "Should we go back up for dinner?" she asked. She was hungry-famished, actually—but the thought of leaving their haven again made her nervous. The more they wandered around, the more likely Cal might find them. But at the same time, that also made them more difficult to find. Rose wasn't sure which option was better. She suspected neither would truly make her feel at ease; that wouldn't happen until they were safely off the ship.

Without realizing, she placed her hands on the bruised parts of her arms. She seemed to draw into herself before Jack's eyes. "No," he said. "I'll go get us something and bring it down. You stay here, alright?"

"Jack, are you sure? What if—"

"I'll be fine," he said reassuringly. "There are a lot of blonde guys on this ship. I'm not unique. You, Rose, you're unique. People'll remember you." He kissed her forehead. "Flower-fire-goddess," he said affectionately. "I'll be back soon. I promise."

She smile faintly. "I'll make the bed."

When he was gone she busied herself arranging the sheets and blankets inside the car. It wasn't a real bed, but she was pleased with the result of her efforts. They wouldn't be too uncomfortable. They would at least be able to stay warm.

She lay on the car seat, glad to be invisible to anyone who might pass by. She would know if they did; their footsteps would echo loudly. She tried to focus on positive things, but the fearful thoughts kept elbowing their way in. What if Cal did find Jack? Would he forget his abhorrence of public scenes? Had he told any of the stewards or crew members to look for them? He would give them money in to help him and promise more if they succeeded. She knew he would. She was equally sure most of them would agree to the arrangement.

"Why did I let him go alone?" she whispered. "If I were there—"

 _What could you do? You can't stop Ca. Don't delude yourself. You've never been able to stop him. You're utterly helpless before him. Aren't you? Admit it. He yells, and you cower, hoping he doesn't hit you._

"Fighting him makes it worse. There's no point. I don't care about myself anymore. There's nothing left for him to do to me. But if he hurts Jack—" She pressed her face into the pillow and breathed in his scent. _Don't think about it. He's fine._

Rose tried to hold back the memories, but they came anyway. Cal's dark eyes glittering with rage, contempt and desire mingling in his smile. She shuddered at the thought of his hands on her. There was nothing soft or tender about his touch. He grabbed at her, leaving bruises even when he didn't intend to. She still thought the first night was the worst. She hadn't known what to expect, and she had allowed herself to hope it wouldn't be so bad.

The memory overwhelmed her. It was as if it were happening all over again. Her body, tense with fear, beneath his, the triumph in his eyes. He looked at her, but he didn't really see her. She had stared past him, focusing on a spot on the ceiling, and tried to imagine she was somewhere else. She told herself it was an awful dream, and soon, she would wake up.

"Hurry Jack," she said, hugging the pillow. "He's fine," she said firmly. "That's all over now. We're going to be happy. We're going to be fine."

…

Jack didn't know if they were allowed to take food out of the dining hall, so he tried to get as much as he could without being noticed. "Jack, where've you been?" He turned at the sound of Fabrizo's voice.

"Hey," he said, keeping his voice low.

Fabrizo looked at him curiously. "Where's Rose?"

"She's waiting for me," Jack said. "We wound a place to hide out. I just came to get food."

"You did? Where?"

"It doesn't matter. It's probably best if you don't know."

"Jack, I heard some talk; some guts were asking about Rose."

"Did you hear who it was?"

Fabrizo shook his head. "No. That's all I heard."

"Did anyone say they saw her?"

"Not that I heard. Jack—" Fabrizo hesitated. "Are you sure you want to be doing this? She's a great girl, but this could be dangerous. Another man's wife?"

"I'm not afraid of him or his money," Jack replied. "Rose's terrified of him, but I'm not. I'm not stupid; I know what a guy like him is capable of. But we won't be on this ship forever, and he doesn't own the whole world. We can get away from him. Fabrizo, I love her. I can't explain it, and I don't expect you to understand. Just please, don't tell anyone you know me, alright?"

"You know I won't."

"Thanks."

Jack turned and hurried out of the dining hall. Fabrizo watched him go with a deep sense of foreboding. Jack had always known what he was doing; he had always landed on his feet. But Fabrizo feared this time things would end differently.


	5. Chapter 5

The next morning, the stewards were out and asking about Rose again. Fabrizo overheard their questions and did his best to avoid speaking to them. No-one seemed to have any idea where she was, although a few thought they had seen a woman matching her description in the dining hall. Others thought they might have seen her in the hallway. A few mentioned Jack, but no account could be called reliable. After a fruitless morning, they reported their findings—or lack thereof—to Lovejoy, who was conducting a search of his own. He'd already gotten Jack's room number, along with a spare key, but they weren't there. There was no sign of them. It only took a few minutes to see Jack's things were gone. The question was, where had he taken them? Even on a ship that size, there were still only so many places they could go. The ship itself acted as a net; all he had to go was find a way to tighten it.

….

They were squeezed onto the car seat, with Rose on the inside. Jack's head lay on her shoulder; his arm was around her, and he was so close to the edge he couldn't move without falling off. Rose's arm was curled around him, holding him up. They had lain awake for some time, neither wanting to get up. Their cocoon was warm, and the silence was soothing. If they didn't move, Rose reasoned, nothing could happen to them. It seemed like days had passed since she left Cal, but the memory of him remained as strong as ever. She hated his power over her and hated herself for being weak. If they did have to confront him, would she be able to stand up to him? The previous night she had been sure she couldn't, but now, she thought, maybe she could. Just maybe she could look him in the eye and tell him it was over. She was leaving. And if he tried to stop her—Here, her confidence failed. If he tried to stop her, there was nothing she could do.

Jack kissed the corner of her mouth. "You sleep alright?" he asked.

"Yes," she said. "Rather well, actually."

"So did I."

"We'll switch tonight," she said. "You shouldn't be on the edge two nights in a row."

"I don't mind." His stomach gave a low rumble. "You ready for breakfast?"

"I think I need to wash first," she answered. "Do you mind?"

"No. I probably should too."

…..

Rose hesitated before going into the Third Class women's bathroom. They would know she didn't belong. Would they mind? They wouldn't be welcome in First Class, so perhaps, she shouldn't expect to be welcome there. To her relief, no-one seemed to notice her. She washed and changed as quickly as possible, doing her best not to be seen. The bruises on her arms were still large and dark. It was difficult enough to let Jack see them; she didn't want strangers gawking at them.

Jack was waiting when she came out. He held out his hand with a smile. "Don't you look nice," he said.

"Is it too much?" she fretted. "It's one of the plainest things I have."

"It's perfect. Don't worry."

"I can't help feeling as though everyone is staring at me," she said, casting an anxious glance around. The dining hall was still crowded when they went in.

"They aren't," he said. "And if they are, it doesn't matter."

"Are you sure we should be doing this?" she asked. "What if they're still down here looking for us?"

"We have to eat," he reminded her. "And the only way to find out what they're doing is to come up here." He spotted Fabrizo. "Maybe Fabrizo'll know what's going on."

Fabrizo hurried over to them, an anxious look in his eyes. "They've been asking about you again," he said.

"Already?" Jack replied. "It's barely nine."

"I've heard them. The stewards. They're going around giving descriptions of Rose."

"Of course they are," Rose said. "I know he would send them back out." She looked around, sure she was about to be spotted and dragged back.

Jack squeezed her hand. "Don't be afraid," he said. "You're not alone."

"That makes me more afraid," she whispered.

Neither of them heard her. "Anybody say they say us?" Jack asked.

Fabrizo shook his head. "No-one said for sure, just maybe they had. Jack, they offered a few people money."

"So, those maybes are gonna turn to definitelys pretty fast if they keep that up," Jack said, a bitter edge in his voice.

"You know it's not personal," Fabrizo said.

"Yeah, I know. Thanks."

Rose's heart pounded; her hands felt like ice. They weren't safe even just standing there. Dozens of people could see them. Any of them could report the sighing back to Cal or his minions. They could be followed when they left. Their hiding place could be discovered. Her mind raced. Where could they go?

"Let's grab something and get out of here," Jack suggested. He glanced at her. "Rose, it's alright," he said. "You don't have to be afraid."

"I can't help it," she said quietly. "I wish I could."

He pulled her into a quick hug. "I know."

They went out on deck, eating what they could carry. It was a bright, cold day. They had their coats, but they still huddled close to stay warm. "You wanna go back?" he asked.

"No," she answered. "No, I want some fresh air. I'm not going to be afraid." But the looks in their direction—some real, some imagined—proved too much to take, so they found themselves back in the hold.

"It's not much warmer down here," Jack said. He wrapped a blanket around her shoulders. "If we sit over here, we can see those two doors," he added. She watched as he arranged the crates to make a kind of fort around them. "I can help," she offered.

"No, you get warm."

He hid their things under the stairs, behind another stack of crates before joining her, wrapped in a blanket of his own. They leaned against each other. "I'm sorry," she said. "You're trapped down here because of me."

"I'm down here because I want to be. I'd rather be here with you than anywhere else."

"Do you think they'll find us?" she asked.

"No," he said reassuringly. "We'll get off the ship in a couple of days, and everything'll be fine." They both knew it was more complicated than that, but neither wanted to think about that yet. Secretly, Rose feared Cal would kill her before he would let her go, and if Jack was with her, he'd kill him as well. But New York was a large city, and even Cal couldn't find them there, she told herself. They could go anywhere. They would leave no trail. They would be completely anonymous. How would he ever find them, even with all of his money? Except there was the matter of the divorce. It would have to happen eventually, unless he found a way to declare her dead. She frowned. He would certainly do it if he could.

"Hey," Jack said. "Did I ever tell you about the time I slept in a haunted house?"

"No," she said, intrigued. "You don't believe in ghosts, do you?"

"Sure I do. I've seen 'em."

Rose laughed. "Jack, you can't be serious. There's no such thing."

"Yeah, there is. I'll show you one."

"Oh, you'll show me a ghost? And how will you do that?" she asked.

"We'll find another haunted place," he answered. "There's tons of them."

"Alright, let's say I believe you," she said. "Where was this haunted house?"

"Kansas."

"Ah, Kansas. Yes, I remember now. It's known for wheat and ghosts," she joked.

"You can laugh because you weren't there, but it was real, and it was terrifying."

"What happened?" she said seriously.

"I stopped in this little town," he explained. "I was only gonna stay the night, and I didn't have much money—less than usual—so I decided to find a place to camp out. I found this abandoned farmhouse about a mile outside of town. The windows were broken; weeds were growing up around it. But the door was unlocked, and it looked like rain, so I went in." Rose leaned closer, eager to hear more. "I settled in," he went on. "And everything was fine at first, but then, I started hearing things."

"What sort of things?"

"Like footsteps. It sounded like someone going up and down the stairs. Just pacing. I heard the click of shoes and the floorboards creaking. Finally, I got up to look, but I didn't see anything. The noise stopped. There was about half a candle left on the table, so I lit it and took it back into the other room with me. I tried to ignore it, but I couldn't. As soon as I sat down it started again, louder this time. I went back with the candle, and that's when I saw her."

"Her?"

"I watched this shadow of a woman going up and down the stairs," he said. "There was no-one there, just her shadow."

"What did you do?"

"I went back into the other room and did my best to sleep," he said. "When the sun came up, I got the hell out of there. I've always wondered why she was there, what made her pace like that."

"Did you ever see any others?" she asked, forgetting she didn't believe in ghosts.

"Other ghosts?" He shook his head. "No. But I know more stories," he added, seeing the disappointment in her eyes. "Wanna hear some?"

"You can tell them," she said, feigning nonchalance. "I won't mind."

He grinned. "Alright."

…

Lovejoy reported back to Cal just before lunch. "Well?" Cal said impatiently. "You have to have found out _something_ by now."

"Some people say they've seen her," Lovejoy replied. "With him."

"With _him?_ They've been seen together?" Cal held his anger in check. "What could they possibly be doing?" he asked, an eerie calm in his voice.

"Very little," Lovejoy said drily. "They were seen in the Third Class dining hall and in the corridors. No-one knows where they slept or where they are now. There's no sign of either of them in his room."

It took a moment for Cal to process Lovejoy's words. "What you're telling me is," he said slowly, "They've run away together. Onboard the ship. They're hiding somewhere." His voice rose slightly. "My wife has disappeared with a vagabond. Is that what you're telling me?"

Lovejoy's expression didn't change. "Yes, that's what I'm telling you."

Cal breathed deeply and sharply. "Lovejoy, find her," he said, a threat in his voice. "I don't care what you do. Bring her back here. I trust you can be effective yet discreet."

"And him?"

Cal smiled slightly. "Bring him as well. Why not?"

….

Rose had never cared for ghost stories or any stories designed to frighten, but she found herself entranced by the tales Jack spun. It wasn't just that he was a good storyteller, although he was. He knew know to use his voice well. But rather, it was because they allowed her to be afraid safely. She knew nothing in his stories could hurt them, so being frightened by them was perfectly fine. It was even relaxing. They put all thoughts of Cal out of her head; they put all thoughts of everything out of her head. For a few hours, she didn't care about the need to hide, where they would go when they ship docked, or how they would survive. Jack didn't know exactly how much relief his stories were bringing her, but he knew she was less tense now. The haunted look was gone from her eyes. He kept going long after he ran out of stories, making up new ones as he went along, borrowing from books and moving pictures. Finally, he ended the last one. His throat was dry, and his stomach growled. They had no way of knowing what time it was, but he guessed it was afternoon.

"Are you hungry?" she asked.

"No, I'm fine," he said.

"You are. Weren't you going to say anything?"

He shrugged. "Eventually. You were enjoying the stories."

"Well—" Before she could get any further, the door to their left opened with a loud creak. A flashlight shone down the stairs. "Get down!" Jack whispered, pulling her down next to him. Through a small gap in their fortress, they could see two men hurrying down the stairs. Both carried flashlights and wore steward's uniforms. Rose clutched Jack's hand. They were looking for her; she knew it. They moved quickly, shining their lights into corners and behind crates. They split up, each taking one side of the hold. It was a massive room, so even at their pace covering it took a few minutes. Rose held her breath, sure they could hear it. Jack was tense, and he searched for a way out. How could they avoid being seen? They couldn't get to any of the doors, but maybe they could make it to another hiding place.

He motioned for her to follow as he moved sideways, crouching down. They kept their heads below the crates and did their best to make as little noise as possible. The search had taken the stewards to the spot under the stairs where Jack had hidden their luggage, but the man who looked there didn't look very closely. From his position, the crates appeared to be against the wall, and no-one could have fit behind them. So, he moved on.

Slowly, Jack crawled along the floor, followed closely by Rose. Just as one of the stewards was turning around, they reached the safety of another stack of crates. They huddled, shivering, behind it. Jack hated hiding; he hated being made to feel like a fugitive. But he knew it was what they had to do. He may not have shared Rose's fear of Cal, but he knew it was best to avoid him until they were off the ship. And he didn't want to upset Rose any further. Finally, after that felt like hours, the stewards disappeared back up the stairs.

Rose let out a deep sigh of relief. She leaned against a crate, pulling the blanket more tightly around her shoulders. "That was close," Jack said.

"Do you think they'll come back?" she asked.

"I don't know," he replied. "Probably not. There's no reason to."

"Unless they decide we're moving around," she said. "Then they might."

"We'll deal with that if it happens. C'mon, let's get something to eat. We can find out if anything else has happened."

As soon as they entered the Third Class corridor, all eyes were on them. There was no attempt to hide it. The other passengers stared openly; some moved closer to get a better look. Rose shrank against him. Jack put a protective arm around her. "Ignore it," he said.

"How? Any of them could be sending word back to Cal," she said. She forced herself to breathe slowly. Panicking wouldn't help at all. Why was she so afraid of him? It wasn't merely because he hit her. No, that was only part of it. It was also the way he could switch moods without warning, the way he went from calm to enraged in a matter of seconds. She never knew what would set him off, and never knew what he would do next. And each time it seemed to take longer for his anger to wear itself out. He knew exactly what to say to make her feel sick and ashamed of herself. He knew every flaw, everything she feared; it was as if he could read her mind. And when he wanted to, he knew how to build her back up again, although it didn't work quite as well as it once had. She distrusted him too much. She had never loved him, but there had been a time when she thought it might be possible to tolerate living with him. At first, she had hoped there might be something more hiding beneath his arrogant exterior, but now, she knew better.

"We can't do anything about that," he pointed out. "And we hafta eat. Sooner or later we're going to have to face him. I don't want to do it here, but if that happens, I guess we'll do the best we can." He didn't want to sound harsh, but it was the truth. Questions swirled through Jack's mind. Did Cal even know she was with him? Had her mother told him of their encounter with her? And most importantly, what story was he telling about them? Jack knew they hadn't done anything wrong, but would anyone else believe that?

Once again, they gathered as much food as they could and ate it as they walked. They looked straight ahead, trying to ignore the stares. All they had to do was make it back to their place. They had almost reached the door that led to the steps when a voice called out, "You there!" Rose grabbed his hand and began to run. Jack glanced over his shoulder to see the two stewards from before, followed by Lovejoy. He quickened their pace, pressing Rose forward.

They ran through a door and up a set of stairs and around corners, but their pursuers refused to be shaken. They hurtled up another set of stairs and down a corridor, bursting through another door. They found themselves in a Second Class common room. Oblivious to the alarmed remarks and shocked looks, they kept running, weaving through the crowd.

They didn't stop for breath until they were out on deck. Jack looked around; there was no sign of Lovejoy or the stewards. For the moment, they were safe. The cold air burned in their lungs. Rose leaned against the wall, gasping. "You'd think we killed somebody," Jack choked out. "And that valet guy? He's more like a cop."

"He was." Rose brushed her hair back. "How did we get away?"

"I don't know," he said. "Maybe when we went up that second set of stairs? I didn't think we ever would. I'll be glad when the ship docks."

"So will I," she said.

He took her hand. "C'mon. Let's get outta here."

….

"What do you mean you lost them?" Cal cried. "You had them, but you couldn't catch them? They outran you? There were _three_ of you! And she's a _woman_! How difficult can it be to catch one woman?" Cal flung his glass against the wall. It shattered, spilling water across the floor. "I see I'll have to go get her myself," he said. "Clearly, no-one else can be trusted to do it." He slipped into his jacket. "Well, let's go," he said.

"I can show you were we found them," Lovejoy said. "But I doubt they'll go back there. Even they can't be that stupid."

"Don't flatter them. He thinks he can take _my_ wife, and she thinks she can get away. They're both morons," Cal scoffed. He hadn't had to be told Rose was with Jack. He had just known. Where else would she be? Jack was giving her ideas. He had seen the way they looked at one another during dinner, and then there was the dancing. He clenched his fists at his side. Didn't she know who she was dealing with? If she didn't, she soon would.

…..

They found a spot in the corner of the Second Class dining room and tried to blend in. No-one seemed to notice them, so Rose decided the story of her disappearance hadn't been spread among those passengers. Why hadn't they come there sooner? It hadn't even occurred to her to hide there. She could tell by the look on Jack's face that it hadn't occurred to him either.

They held hands across the table. "So," Jack said.

"So," she echoed. "Do you regret meeting me yet?"

"No. No, of course not. I don't care how many times we get chased. I'm still gonna love you." He kissed her knuckles. "You're my Rose Petal, my Flower Girl."

"Is that how you think of me?" she asked.

"Partly. I don't mean a delicate flower," he explained. "You're a wild rose that should be growing in some garden out in the middle of the woods, the kind you stumble on and can't believe is real because it's so beautiful, but you're not that surprised because Nature's like that sometimes. She doesn't need help. And neither do you."

"If you're not careful you're going to spoil me," she warned. "Stop being so nice to me. I don't know how to respond to it." She laughed, but it was half-hearted. Part of her really wasn't sure how to respond to his affection.

"You'll figure it out," he said. "You want to go back downstairs?"

She nodded. "Sure. Will you tell some more stories?"

"Yeah, I might know a few more."

…..

Unfortunately, they got turned around in the mazelike corridors and found themselves lost. "I know we haven't done down enough," Jack said. "But I'm not sure which way we should go."

"None of this looks familiar," she replied, casting a wary look around.

They had finally found their way back to familiar surroundings when it happened. They rounded the corner just as Cal did, followed by Lovejoy. The four of them froze. Rose moved to turn and run, but Cal's hand on her arm stopped her. "Where are you going?" he said, a menacing lilt in his voice. She held tightly to Jack's hand. Cal dug his fingers into his arm and jerked her forward. "Answer me," he demanded. His voice echoed in the empty corridor.

Jack moved in front of her, still holding her hand. "Don't touch her!" he cried.

Cal's lip curled in a sneer. "She's _my_ wife." He tried to shove Jack aside, but he resisted. Jack stood firmly. Cal pulled Rose around him, shook her roughly. "What did you think you were doing?" he hissed. She tried to break his grip, but he held her like a vise. Jack tried to get between them again, but Cal turned, pressing her against the wall. He brought his face close to hers. "He can't help you," he said. "If he knows what's best for him, he'll turn while he still has the chance." Cal relaxed his pose as other people began moving through the corridor. He pushed Rose forward, twisting her arm but managing to keep it out of sight. "Go on," he said, quietly but sharply. Jack raised his fist.

"I wouldn't do that," Lovejoy said calmly. Jack felt the muzzle of a gun press against his back.

"Walk," Cal ordered. He kept his voice low. "Both of you, and don't you even think about making a scene."

Rose looked over at Jack, tears glistening in her eyes. "I'm sorry," she mouthed. He wanted to tell her everything would be alright, but he couldn't. He didn't think they would actually shoot them, at least, no out in public with so many potential witnesses, but that was no reason to tempt Fate. Still, there had to be a way out. He just had to figure out what it was.


	6. Chapter 6

Jack tasted blood. The carpet was thick; it cushioned his swollen cheek. At first, he didn't know where he was. His head ached; breathing hurt, and his eyes were heavy. But he heard Rose's voice. And he remembered everything. She was crying. He opened his eyes and saw her feet. Where had her shoes gone? He tried to move, but lifting his head was impossible. He saw Cal's feet approach hers. She stepped back, not crying now, just talking. What was she saying? He heard his own name, but her words blurred together. He tried again to move, and again, he couldn't. He heard her fear, but there was nothing he could do.

…..

"Come on, Jack," Rose whispered. She glanced through the open door. There was still no sign of them. She shook Jack. "Wake up. Jack please, wake up." Desperation thickened her voice. "Jack." His eyes fluttered, but he didn't stir. She pulled him up with a strength she didn't know she had and held him beneath the arms. He groaned in pain. His body was limp and heavy. She half-carried, half-dragged him into the hallway, hoping it would be empty but also, not caring if it was.

Fortunately, it was.

She stumbled down the stairs, nearly tipping over from Jack's weight. She moved as quickly as she could. So far, no-one was following them, but she kept looking over her shoulder just in case. Her breathing was fast and heavy; her entire body shook. Finally, she collapsed onto the cargo hold floor.

She wrapped a blanket around Jack and held him tightly. He was still breathing, but his cheeks were pale. She wiped blood from his face. His eye was a dark purple, almost black. His nose was swollen and still bleeding. His lip was split. His hand was swollen and bleeding from hitting Cal. She couldn't see it, but she felt the large knot on the back of his head. She shuddered as she saw Lovejoy hit him again. He'd used the fireplace poker. Jack had crumpled like a piece of paper. She wondered how her screams had gone unheard.

Rose kissed his forehead. "Everything's going to be alright," she whispered. "I promise, Jack. We got away. I got us out of there. But you have to wake up now, okay? Jack, please wake up." Tears filled her eyes. Her own injuries had been forgotten. She would feel the pain later, when she could spare the energy. Now, keeping Jack alive was all that mattered.

….

 _The sun was warm but not too bright. The sky was the perfect blue. There were clouds, but that was alright. Jack liked clouds. Even now, he liked staring up at them and trying to find shapes. He moved his bare feet across the sand, digging his toes into it. The waves lapped gently as the show. He reached over and took Rose's hand. "Happy?" he said._

 _She nodded. "Yes. I'm glad we came here."_

" _Me too. This is exactly what we needed," he said._

" _Philadelphia was so dreary, even in the summer," she said. "Pittsburg was worse."_

" _You don't have to think about that anymore. It's over. You're free. We don't even go back to that part of the country again."_

" _We can go back," she said. "But perhaps we should avoid Pennsylvania. He holds grudges. I'm sure he would make things difficult for us, divorce or no divorce."_

 _Jack put an arm around her. "Don't worry about him. He's out of our lives."_

" _Jack, can we get married here?"_

" _Sure."_

" _Right here? On the beach?"_

" _Why not?" He grinned. "We could do it at dawn, have the ceremony as the sun rises."_

…..

Rose slowly rocked back and forth, murmuring to Jack. It didn't matter that he didn't seem to hear. She was sure he could. If she kept talking, he would wake up, eventually. "We'll live on the beach," she said. "You need the sun. You wouldn't last very long in Philadelphia. I know you said Wisconsin is cold, but it's worse there, and you left. Maybe that's why. You're golden. The sun nourishes you. Not like me. I burn. My skin turns as red as my hair. It's awful. And I get freckles. I've spent my life wearing hats, standing under shade, holding parasols, all to avoid ruining my complexion. You've never had that problem, have you?" She brushed his hair away from his face. "No," she said. She kissed him. "I'm so sorry, Jack, for all of this."

…..

 _They danced without music. Laughing, Rose said, "The ocean will be our music." She fit into his arms perfectly. Their hand found the right places, as if they had been dancing together for years. He looked down into her eyes. They sparkled; the sad, haunted look was gone. Stars filled the sky overhead. "What are you thinking?" she asked._

" _Nothing," he answered._

" _Nothing?"_

" _Just feeling."_

…..

Cal laughed when he came back and found them gone. He couldn't stop himself. Rose had more strength than he'd given her credit for. He glance around the room. Blood was splattered across the floor. The poker still lay where Lovejoy had dropped it. A table was broken. The chair on its side. They couldn't have gotten far. He pictured them, slowly dragging themselves through the ship; it was a pathetic sight. They were sure to be noticed. Finding them again wouldn't be difficult. They would need medical attention. Dawson might be dead. Cal had seen the blow; it wasn't something Jack would just shrug off.

But there would be questions. People would want to know what happened and why. He could give the curious incentive to keep quiet, but he couldn't silence the story forever. Rumors have a way of getting out eventually, as he knew all too well. There was also the matter of Rose's infernal shrieking. She had never screamed like that before. It had been ignored this time. No-one wanted to get involved, but if it happened again, there would be questions.

…..

Fabrizo was outside with Helga when the story reached him. Somehow, it had traveled from the First Class suites that heard Rose scream to a maid to a steward to another maid to someone else who told someone else, and now, he was hearing a garbled version of it from Tommy. Helga watched their faces and hands, only understanding a little of what they said. "Fabrizo?" she said. "Something is wrong?" She spoke slowly, pronouncing the English words carefully.

'No," he said reassuringly. "Just gossip, that's all. Want to go back inside?" He motioned with his hand, and she nodded. He left her with her sister and went in search of Jack and Rose. If even part of the story was true, they would need help.

…..

Rose was nodding off when Jack spoke. His voice was faint, barely a whisper. Her eyes snapped open. "Jack?" she said. His eyes remained closed. She touched his face. "I know you said something. I heard you. Jack, please."

"Rose."

Her heart skipped a beat. "I'm here," she said reassuringly. She cradled him in her arms. "I'm with you. We're safe."

He heart her, but she sounded so far away. It didn't make sense. She was right next to him. He was touching her. He watched, horrified, as she began to fade before his eyes. "Rose!" he cried, trying to maintain his grip on her. On the other side of the dream, his voice came out as a whisper; with each cry, it grew stronger.

"Jack!" She fought the urge to shake him. "Wake up," she pleaded, kissing him. "You can do it. I know you can."

Finally, his eyes opened. He smiled weakly. There you are," he said. "You disappeared." He looked around. "Where are we?" He moved to sit up, but an icy pain in the back of his head stopped him.

"Don't try to move," she said. "Just rest."

"What happened?"

"Don't you remember?" she asked.

"I remember being on the beach—" His face fell. "That wasn't real. We're still on the ship."

She nodded. "I'm afraid so."

"How did we get away from Cal?"

"He left us alone. He didn't think I would try anything, or maybe he didn't think I could," she explained. "I picked you up and carried you out of there."

Ignoring her protests and the pain, he pulled himself up. In the dim light, he saw the bruises on her face, the cut on her cheek from Cal's ring. He lifted her hands. Her wrists were ringed with dark fingerprints. Her dress was torn. "You lost your shoes," he said sadly.

"I packed another pair. Before."

They looked into each other's face, both wishing they could have prevented the violence inflicted on them. "I had this dream," he said. "We were on the beach, somewhere far away from all of this. We were gonna get married on the beach."

"That sounds wonderful." She laughed joylessly. "Too bad it was a dream."

"Rose—"

"Jack, don't, please," she said. "I know what you're going to say, and there's no need. It happened. We survived. We're safe, for now, so let's not talk about it. Seeing you hurt was difficult enough. I don't want to relive it any more than I have to."

"I'm sorry," he said. "That's all I'm gonna say. I need you to know that. I promised I'd—"

"Jack, don't." Her voice was gentle, but her eyes were determined. "I don't want to start out apologizing and trying to make things up to one another, particularly things that aren't either of our faults. Someone has been telling me to apologize my entire life, for one thing or another, and I'm not going to do it anymore. I'm not going to blame myself for anything someone else does. Cal is the one who should be apologizing." Her voice gradually rose. "To us, to me, for everything he's done." She didn't know exactly when it happened, but something within her had changed. Perhaps it happened when she saw Jack hurt or when she waited desperately for him to wake up. Or maybe it was picking him up that had done it, dragging him to safety with bare feet and a torn dress, knowing no-one she passed would help if she asked. No-one would even believe her. Jack was the first person to see what went on and say something. She knew her suffering was an open secret in their circle, but that only earned her veiled pity and sympathy. It did nothing to help her.

So, she would have to help herself, and as painful as it was to admit, sometimes that would mean not relying on anyone, not even Jack. Some battles he couldn't fight for or even with her. She was still afraid; he wasn't sure she would ever stop being afraid, unless Cal died, but that would leave his family to contend with. The thought of his father's coldly appraising stare made her shudder.

"Alright, we won't talk about it," he said. "But we need to get something for that." He pointed to the cut on her cheek. "It looks deep."

"You have a few of your own," she replied.

He tried to shrug, but his shoulder was stiff and sore. "I'll be alright. Don't worry." Using a crate to steady himself, he slowly stood up. His knees threatened to buckle; Rose held him by the shoulders.

"Don't try to do too much at once," she cautioned. "That bastard tried to kill you."

"Which one?" He tried to make it a joke, but his words fell flat.

"Lovejoy."

"That makes sense. I forgot about him for a minute. That's how he got me," Jack said, the memory of that moment filtering back. "You were—" He stopped, unable to say it.

She took his face in her hands. "Don't think about it," she said. "We agreed not to talk about it, so let's try not to think about it either."

"We need to get checked out, at least, and I don't know about you, but I'm famished. Is that strange? Being hungry at a time like this?"

She shook her head. "I'm hungry too. I suppose our bodies need replenishment after…" She took a deep breath. "Do you have an infirmary down here?"

"I don't know," he answered. "Probably. They wouldn't make you go to same doctor as us, would they?" He laughed, earned a smile from her. "I'll think we'll be noticed," he added.

"I don't care anymore," she said. "What else can he do? Cal hates scenes. He won't come after us in public again."

They were about to head up the stairs when the door opened. Rose sucked in her breath. Jack squeezed her hand and pushed her behind a stack of crates. He peered around them, readying himself for a fight. His body protested, but he ignored it. Relief washed over him as he saw Fabrizo coming down the stairs. "It's alright," he said, standing up. "Fabrizo," he called. "Over here."

….

 _One Month Later_

Her movements woke him up. The bed was just large enough for the two of them, but the slightest twitch was felt on the other's side. Rose clutched the blanket, her head turning back and forth. She twisted her feet as if trying to run. "No," she murmured. "Jack."

He lifted her into his arms. "I'm here," he said. "It's just a dream." He gave her a gentle shake. "Wake up, Honey-Rose. You're just dreaming again."

She pressed her face against his neck and held him tightly. "It was so real," she said. "It's always so real."

"Was it about Cal again?"

She nodded. "And you. I wish they would stop. I don't know how to make them stop."

"It'll take time," he said. "Don't push yourself so much."

"I don't have time," she replied. "I want to be free now."

"You are."

"Not if he keeps invading my dreams," she said. "He doesn't know where I am, and yet, he can still control me." Her tone was bitter. "He'll never divorce me."

"Hey, didn't we already talk about that? He'll do it eventually. He needs heirs. We just gotta wait until he's accepted you're not coming back."

Jack made sense, and she was inclined to agree with him. But she had seen the look in Cal's eyes that day on the ship. He would kill her before he let her go. A divorce couldn't be hushed up entirely, even if he did find a way to make it seem like she was dead. There would be a record of it. Eventually, someone would find out, and that was a possibility Cal wouldn't allow.

…..

The apartment had to rooms, though neither was very spacious. The front room served as a kitchen, living room, and a bedroom for Fabrizo. He slept on a narrow sofa. They had a table and three chairs. One was on the verge of breaking, but Jack claimed he could fix it. There were no closets, just hooks on the walls. They shared a bathroom with the other tenants. They spent the first day scrubbing, going over every inch of the place, but Rose still felt it was dirty. She didn't say anything. Jack did his best to make it as nice as possible. He brought home fresh flowers every day. She suspected he picked them from private gardens. Their meager earnings barely paid the rent and fed them, but neither Jack nor Fabrizo seemed to mind. She tried to be as optimistic as they were. It was awkward at times, living with two men. Fabrizo was friendly, but there was a distance between them. She was grateful to him. He helped them hide on the ship and sent Cal's emissaries in the wrong direction. He brought them food and snuck first aid supplies out of the infirmary. Jack was lucky to have such a friend.

Jack held her close before leaving. "I love you," he said. "Don't be afraid." He kissed her, slowly and deeply.

"I'll find a job today," she said, sounding more confident than she felt.

"It's alright if you don't," he said. "Really, we'll be fine."

"I want to. I don't want you taking care of me forever. I said I would contribute, and I will. Even if we were married. I'd still want to do my part."

"I love that about you," he said. "Be careful. Don't—"

"I won't go anywhere he would go," she promised.

…..

Rose had no way of knowing simply staying away from the upper class neighborhoods wasn't enough. Cal had a team of detectives looking for her, all with instructions to scour the poor areas of the city. The police weren't involved, but that was only because he didn't trust them to be discrete. He couldn't go home until she was found. Even if he reported her missing, he would have to remain in New York, playing the concerned husband.

He wanted her found, but the thought of having her back after weeks—months, possibly—with Jack was distasteful, to say the least. There was no way of knowing what vile things she would do for him or what diseases he carried. If he did find her, she might not be fit to take back. It might be best if she just disappeared forever.

Ruth presented a problem. She wasn't likely to go along with that without some proof of Rose's death. Cal was surprised by the depth of her feelings. She rarely showed affection for Rose, and yet, now she was almost inconsolable. "It's only a matter of time," Cal assured her. "She can't hide forever; this is just a childish whim. How will she take care of herself? She'll come back on her own."

"Do you think she will? Cal, I know how difficult she can be, but—"

Cal waved away her concerns. "Sooner or later," he said. "Rose will see coming home is for the best. She'll see how much better off she is as my wife." _Even,_ he added silently, _if I have to make her see._

….

Rose slowly trudged home, exhausted after a day of rejections. She had no skills, no experience, and it was obvious. Her eagerness didn't seem to help. There were hundreds of eager girls. What made her special? Nothing. She looked at her hands. Perfect. Smooth and white, they gave her away. They marked her a different, as a woman who didn't need to work. She saw it in the eyes of the people she met. They thought this was a lark for her, something to pass the time until she married or had children. She didn't know how to make them understand it was her _life_. She had nothing to go back to. There was no family, no money to fall back on. Jack was doing his best, but the struggle to survive would eventually take its toll. He would never say it, but she knew it would. Had she done the right thing? Was she just making his life more difficult?

 _I would have died if I'd stayed._ But was that Jack's responsibility? It wasn't up to him to save her. If she was saving herself, wasn't it up to her to take care of herself?

Rose lifted her chin and straightened her back. She quickened her pace, walking with purpose now. _I'm here. I survived. I made my choice._ The words soothed her frayed nerves. Somehow, everything would work out. She would find a way to make it work.

He spotted her as she rounded the corner. She had removed her hat, and her curls fought against the pins that bound them. Even in her simplest dress, she stuck out. The color was too rich, the fabric too fine for that part of town. She moved quickly, with a grace acquired after years of dance classes. He followed her, remaining far enough back not to arouse suspicion. She didn't seem to notice anyone she passed, though. He lost her at a traffic light. A crowd waited to cross the street, and when he got through it, she was gone.

…

"He doesn't like me, does he?" Rose whispered. Even with the door closed, Fabrizo could head everything unless they kept their voices down. It made Rose wish she and Jack spoke the same languages, but he only had a smattering of French and Italian, just enough to get by. Her fluency in French and German offered no help, although she could talk to herself in German. That was more of a comfort than she had expected. She kept her journal in German. She and Jack were so connected, but to her dismay, she discovered there were moments when she wanted to be alone, with not even his thoughts next to hers. There were things he just couldn't understand, though he tried, and she suspected there were things she couldn't understand about him. They could only be so close.

"Who? Fabrizo? Sure he likes you."

Rose shook her head. "I don't think he does. I want to be his friend, but I can't. It's like he doesn't want me to. He's nice to me, but that's because of you."

"He doesn't like the situation," Jack argued. "It's not you. It's that you're married, and—"

"And it's who I'm married to?" she finished.

"Yeah."

"I'm trying not to be a burden," she said.

"No-one said you were. Rose—"

"If I weren't here, would either of you be?" she asked. "Or would you have moved on?"

"I don't know. We really wouldn't have that much more money without you, if that's what you think. Don't worry about that." He pulled her to him. "I want you here," he said.

"I'll try again tomorrow."

He rubbed her back soothingly. "You don't have to."

"Jack, I have to."

"You know I'd take care of you," he said, resting his chin on her hair. "If I had anything to give you, I would."

"You've given me more than enough. And even if you could, I would want you to support me. Not that way," she said. "I have to learn to take care of myself, as difficult as that may be. We both need that."

"I know. I just—I want to make it easier for you. I know how hard the world is, and I don't want you going through what I've gone through."

She smiled faintly. "Is it any worse than my marriage?"

"Probably not." He kissed her forehead. "Maybe we should get out of New York. Maybe we'd have better luck somewhere else."

"Like where?"

"We could go to Wisconsin," he said. "I never thought I'd go back, but I own some property, and Cal'd never think to look there."

...

Cal listened silently, his pose relaxed, his features blank. Darren spoke quickly, sparing no detail. Cal was sure he had indeed seen Rose, and part of him was relieved. She sounded healthy, and if she was alone, perhaps that meant Jack had already abandoned her. She might actually be willing to hear reason. Convincing her might be easier than he had anticipated.

"But you don't know where she went after that?" Cal said.

"No, sir. She could have gone in a number of directions. I couldn't investigate them all alone."

"But you're certain you know where to find her again?"

"I believe so," Darren said. "Yes."

"Goof. Go back there tomorrow and see what you can find out."


	7. Chapter 7

Rose noticed something odd as she was coming home two days later. A man kept popping up behind her. He wore a dark grey suit, and his hat was pulled down low, making it difficult to see his face. She quickened her pace and crossed the street, hoping to get away from him, but when she looked again, he was still there. He pretended to be reading the building's number, but she felt herself being watched when she started walking again, though she told herself it was just her imagination running wild.

…

"What're you planning to do?" Fabrizo asked. He had been circling the question for days, waiting for the right time to ask. Finally, he decided there was no right time.

Jack knew exactly what he meant. "We're thinking of leaving. I've been saving some money, not much, but enough to get us on our way."

"When?"

"As soon as we can," Jack replied.

"Were you going to tell me?" Fabrizo asked, a little offended.

"Of course I was going to tell you. I didn't know anything for sure yet, except that we're going. You can come, if you want," he offered. "I understand if you don't want to. Three's a crowd and all."

They tried to ignore it, but living in such close quarters was becoming awkward. Fabrizo had grown up in a large family, and he was used to sharing space, but this was different. Rose wasn't one of his sisters. He tried to treat her the way he would them, but there was no familiarity between them, so he just seemed coolly respectful. They tried to be friends, but it just didn't work. Things worsened after he came home early, unexpectedly, and heard their lovemaking. He hadn't said anything, but he knew Jack knew. Fabrizo had trouble looking directly at Rose for a few days. Jack certainly seemed to love her, and she seemed to love him, but Fabrizo wondered if either of them fully grasped the precariousness of their situation.

"You're leaving because of her husband."

"That's part of it. I'd never intended to stay in New York, though. You know that."

"But you're trying to get away from him, aren't you? Go somewhere he can't find you? Jack, there's no such place," Fabrizo said.

"I don't believe that. If we stay out of the cities and away from this coast, we'll be fine. He'll get tired of looking eventually."

"And you think he'll divorce her?" Fabrizo said skeptically.

"Why not? He'll have to remarry at some point, and if he doesn't, so what?" Jack replied. "Who's to say we aren't married? Why do we need a license to for our relationship to be real? I love her. That's all I need. No-one needs to know anything else."

"I hope it works out the way you say. I've always admired all that optimism you have."

The apartment was silent when Rose came in. Jack was preparing dinner, and Fabrizo was playing Solitaire. Jack pulled her to him with his free hand, "Any luck?" he asked.

She shook her head and kissed him. "None. I wanted to give up by three, but I wouldn't let myself." She decided not to mention the strange man, convinced, now that she was safely home, that he hadn't actually been following her.

"You'll find something," he said encouragingly.

"I hope you're right." She sat down at the table. Fabrizo nodded pleasantly but remained engrossed in his game.

…..

Cal listened to the report calmly, his expression never changing. Darrin stood awkwardly, waiting for a response. "What do you want us to do next?" he prompted, when none came.

"Nothing," Cal said. "Nothing yet. Keep watching her. I want to know everything she does."

"What if she catches on?"

"And what if she does?" Cal said irritably. "She can't do anything. Just do as you're told. If you don't touch her, what can she complain about? Who would listen?" His tone became slightly threatening. "I mean it," he added. "Don't touch her."

"We won't. I can assure you—"

"Save your assurances," Cal said. "I know your men tend to do what they want while you look the other way, but not this time. Do you understand? She's still my wife. No-one lays a hand on her but me."

….

Rose was folding the laundry when Jack slipped his arms around her. He kissed her neck, hugging her from behind. "Jack," she said, trying to hold back a smile. "I'm trying to finish this. And he'll hear—"

"We're alone," he said into her hair.

She sighed as he lightly caressed her arms. "But for how long?"

"We got a few hours."

They moved slowly, each content to explore the other. Gradually, Rose's overwhelming desire had become a kind of confidence. She didn't worry about what Jack would think of her and focused on matching the pleasure he gave her, though she wasn't sure she could.

They lay entwined, trading gentle kisses. "I think we were made for each other," he said.

"Do you believe in things like that?"

"Like Fate?" he said. "Yeah. Don't you?"

"I didn't, but I'm changing my mind. It sounds too simple to say this is all by chance," she replied.

"Well, whatever it is, we helped it along," he said. Her face grew serious as she looked intently at the ceiling. "What're you thinking about, Rose-Petal?"

"We don't do this too much, do we?" she asked, turning to him.

"Too much?"

"Too often."

"I didn't think so," he answered. "Do you?"

"I don't know. Sometimes, I feel so useless, and I worry….I wonder if this isn't all I can offer you."

"Don't ever think that," he said. "I love you. I wouldn't have fought to be with you if all I wanted was—Rose, I can get girls if I want them."

"That's very reassuring."

"You know what I mean," he said. "I only want you, and not just like this. It's important for us, but it's not everything. I like it just as much when all we do is talk until we fall asleep."

"So do I. I'm so silly, always looking for things to worry about, as if we don't have enough worries already. I know you're tired of hearing about it, but I never knew where I stood with Cal. It was never clear why he wanted to marry me, aside from the obvious reasons, and like you said, he could have found any number of girls who were just as young and attractive. There wasn't anything special about me."

"There's plenty about you that's special."

"You're sweet, Jack," she said.

"I mean it," he said firmly. "He was a damn fool. Don't believe anything he said about you."

Rose smiled. "I'd have to agree. I'm sorry I brought him up."

"Don't be. You need to talk about it. He hurt you. A lot."

"I'm trying to let go," she said. "I am, Jack, really."

"I know. It's gonna take time," he said. "Don't push yourself so much."

"I have to push myself a little. Sometimes I'm afraid to go outside, and so I have to force myself to. I was afraid for so long I don't know how not to be anymore. I know it wasn't that long, not even a full two years counting our engagement, but it felt so much longer to me. I'm not afraid with you," she said. "Or I wouldn't be if I could break the habit."

"You will," he assured her.

"Will you teach me some things?"

"Like what?"

"How to cook and tie knots and play cars. All those useful skills you have," she answered. "You already taught me how to spit properly."

"Will you teach me how to stand on my toes?"

"I can try, but it may be too late; I took lessons for eight years to master that skill. Every day, from age five to thirteen, I went to Madam Ergova's ballet studio, along with a half a dozen other girls. Ballet is very demanding," she went on conspiratorially. "If you don't start early and dedicate yourself to it, you'll never get anywhere."

"Did you get anywhere?"

"Not really," she said. "I got the gracefulness a girl like me is supposed to have, but I'm afraid my body spoiled my chances of being a prima ballerina. They have to be much smaller, you know."

"I like you this way," he said.

"You're just saying that because you've got me naked," she said drily but with a smile.

"Who says I'd want a naked ballerina?"

"Don't be absurd, Jack. All men want ballerinas. They're so light and pretty, such delicate little creatures."

Jack held her against him. "I want you. Wild, blooming Rose." He kissed her, slowly and luxuriously.

….

"Alright," Jack said. "You wait for it to start bubbling before you flip it. Ya see how the bottom edges are starting to brown?"

Rose nodded. "I see."

"Now, take the spatula and gently lift the edge. If it looks ready, flip it."

The batter hissed as Rose flipped the pancake. Instead of landing cleanly, the uncooked side smashed against the frying pan. "Damn it," she muttered, frowning.

"It's fine. It'll still come out right. Just don't bring it up so high. Watch." Jack took the spatula and expertly flipped a pancake. "Like that."

"You know, you make everything look very easy," she said. "Even when it isn't."

"This really is easy. Don't get discouraged, Rose. It just takes practice. You try the others, and I'll fry the bacon."

"We can't afford to waste good bacon," she said, flipping another pancake. "I did!" she cried happily.

"See? What'd I tell you?" He gave her shoulder a squeeze. "You can do anything."

"Be careful, or I'll start believing that."

"Good," he said.

The table was set when Fabrizo came in. The whole apartment smelled of bacon and maple syrup. His stomach growled when he saw the stack of golden pancakes. "Glad you came home for breakfast?" Jack asked, as they sat down.

"I am now," Fabrizo said. After eating half a stack without pausing, he said, "No-one makes these the way you do."

Jack grinned over at Rose. "Thanks, but I didn't make them."

"I did," Rose said proudly. "After a few tries."

Fabrizo offered her a smile. "You did well."

….

They walked, hand-in-hand, basking in the bright spring day. "Thank you," Rose said.

"For what?"

"For showing me how to do that."

"That wasn't anything," he said. "You coulda figured it out by yourself. It just might've taken longer."

"And it would have involved an awful mess without you."

"I'll show you how to make something else later," he promised.

"Something more complicated?" she said hopefully.

"You want more complicated?"

"Yes, I believe I do." She took on an exaggeratedly haughty tone. "Challenge me, Mr. Dawson."

"If you say so, miss," he said with a grin.

"We have an entire empty day ahead of us. What shall we do?" Before he could answer, she added, "What would you do if I weren't here?"

He thought for a moment. "Probably find a nice spot and draw for a while. Walk around the city, watch people. Go have a beer, maybe find a card game, if I had enough money. I usually get a little extra that way."

"You're a good player, aren't you?"

"You could say that," he said. "You can't control what hand you're dealt, though. It's all about making the other guys think you've got something they can't beat."

"That's the appeal of the game, isn't it? You try to turn a band hand into a good one and a good one into a great one. It's like life, only life doesn't start over after a few minutes. You don't get a chance to start again."

"I don't know," he said. "It does, in a way. You always get chances; you just have to see 'em. You got the chance to go with me, and you took it. We're both starting over now, with a whole new hand. Anything can happen. What would you do if I weren't here?"

"I don't know," she answered. "Explore, maybe. I've never been to this part of the city. I've never been in New York alone or anywhere else, either. I might just take a long walk and watch all the different people. When I'm in a crowd with people I don't know," she added. "No, you'll think it's stupid."

"No, I won't."

"You will. Trust me."

"C'mon, Rose, tell me," he said. "I won't think it's stupid. I promise."

"Alright. Sometimes, when I'm around strangers I make up stories about them. I imagine what their lives are like. I told you it was stupid."

"No, it's not. I do that too."

"You do?" Rose said.

"Sure. All the time, especially when I draw."

"But your drawings are true," she said. "You see the people in them, and you show who they really are."

"You know, Rose, I'd like to draw you."

"Alright," she said, with a cautious smile.

"Yeah? You mean it?"

She nodded. "Yes."

"I don't have anything with me," he said, disappointedly.

"Tomorrow," she suggested. "That's what we'll do. It sounds like the perfect way to end the weekend."

"And today?"

"You could teach me to play cards," she said.

"Alright."

…..

They received a few curious glances, but they didn't notice them. They saw in the soft grass, under a tree in the park. Rose arranged her skirts as best she could, silently envying Jack his pants. He didn't have to worry about which way he sat. The cards were new, bought for a nickel, and they made a satisfying clicking sound as Jack shuffled them. Rose listened, watching intently as he explained the art of shuffling. He handed her the deck. "You try."

She leaned forward, carefully trying to mimic his movements. But the cards slipped out of her hands. "Try again," he said. After three more tries, she could adequately shuffle, though her efforts lacks the smoothness of his. "You're getting it," he encourage.

"You would say that even if I wasn't."

"No, I wouldn't."

….

"You win," Jack said, putting down his cards. He pushed the pile of acorns toward her. "I'm almost out."

"You're letting me win, aren't you?" she said.

"Of course not."

"I don't completely believe you," she said good-naturedly. "I think it's the sort of thing you would do to encourage me."

"Why would I want to encourage you?"

Their eyes met, and for a moment they just looked at each other. Both thought the other sparkled in the sun. Forgetting decorum, Rose leaned down and kissed him.

"What's that for?" he asked.

She shrugged. "I don't know. Does it have to be for anything? I just wanted to kiss you." She kissed him again. "Maybe it's to thank you."

"You don't have to do that."

"I know," she said. "Shall we finish the game?"

As they walked home for lunch, Rose noticed the man in the grey suit following them. It was the same one from before. Instinctively, she moved closer to Jack, holding more tightly to his hand. She told herself nothing was wrong; it was all in her imagination, but she wasn't convinced. It didn't feel like a coincidence. She stole another glance over her shoulder. Whoever he was, he moved with purpose. His face was again obscured by his hat. There was something familiar about him. A chill ran down her spine as she realized why. She had seen him, months ago, with Cal. But why would Cal send someone to follow them? Why didn't he just come himself? _Because he doesn't like scenes_ , she thought. _He doesn't want to fail again. And this is a game for him._

What could she do? Tell Jack, but then what? Cal had dozens of men working for him. Hadn't she seen them? Hadn't she heard him refer to them? Hadn't she heard the phone calls, the intense conversations in low tones he tried to hide? Cal could use the entire world against them if he wanted. _No,_ she told herself. _He isn't here. He can't hurt us._

"Jack," she whispered, trying not to arouse their pursuer's suspicions.

Jack gave her a puzzled look. "You alright?"

"Jack, there's someone following us."

"What?" He turned around to look.

"Don't," she warned.

"Are you sure?"

"I'm certain. He's wearing a grey suit; his hat is covering his face. This is the second time I've seen him following me. I told myself it was just my imagination playing tricks on me before, but I recognize him. I've seen him before; he works for Cal," she said.

Jack quickly looked over his shoulder. "You're right. I see him." He looked around. The light was about to change. "C'mon," he said, quickly, steering them through the traffic and across the street. As they reached the sidewalk, the light turned green, and Darrin was forced to retreat back to the other side. They hurried around the corner and down a side street before hopping onto a bus. They peered out of the window. There was no sign of him. There were others, watching their building and the street their usual routes home. Jack didn't know that for sure, but he suspected as much. It made sense to send more than one man; one man was too easily eluded, if you were onto him.

…

Rose sipped her coffee without tasting it. Across from her, Jack smoked. They had sat in silence since arriving in the diner, nearly an hour earlier. She stole a glance at his face. He frowned deeply; his jaw was tense. His mouth twitched, as if he wanted to speak but didn't. His anger wasn't directed at her, but it scared her anyway. "Jack," she said hesitantly.

His features softened. "Sorry," he said. "I—"

"I know."

"So, you've seen that guy before?" he said.

"I was on my way home. I tried to get away, but he kept up with me. I guess he followed me home." She sighed. "He might have followed me a dozen times before that. I'm so stupid. I should have realized who he was the first time."

"You're not stupid."

"I am," Rose argued. "I should have known Cal would do something like this. We haven't heard from him since that day, and I let myself think it might be over, but it isn't. I know what he's like. I know better than to think that way."

"It will be over," Jack said. "We'll just have to leave sooner than we thought, that's all. He can't search the whole country."

"You can get out of this," she offered. "You don't have to take any more risks. Jack, you don't have to stay with me."

He reached across the table and took her hands. "We'll go tomorrow."

"We don't have enough—"

"We do. Barely, but it'll get us started. We'll get out of the city, maybe out of the state, and we'll find ways to earn more. Maybe," he added thoughtfully. "I can get us some more tonight."

"How?"

"Another lucky hand?" he said.

"Do you really think that will work?" she asked.

"I don't know. It's worth a try. I don't want to lose what we have, though." Jack knew what he was suggesting was risky, but what choice did they have? He had to do something; he couldn't stand by and let her be afraid or threatened, and without more money, there was little he could do. Cal couldn't search the whole country, but if they didn't at least get out of the state, finding them wouldn't be that hard for a man with his resources. He might be able to blend in, but Rose couldn't, even if she tried. It wasn't her fault; between her hair and her upper class upbringing, she just stuck out. People would remember her if asked. They would definitely remember the mismatched couple who arrived out of nowhere.

Rose looked into his eyes. "Do you think you can win?"

"I think _we_ can win. You have to help me, Rose."

"Me? You want me to play? I barely know how," she said incredulously.

"I wasn't letting you win," he said. "You know what you're doing; you know how to hide what's really going on."

"I don't," she insisted.

"You do."

"Then why can you always read my face?"

"I know you. And you let me," he said. "You don't really want to hide from me."

Rose studied their hands, his proposal spinning in her head. "We need rules," she said. "A limit on what we can lose before we stop. We can't get greedy. If we win a few hands, we stop. We just need enough to get us out of the state, maybe a little further. We can work our way to the next place."

"Agreed."

Rose let out a deep breath. Jack kissed her hands. "I trust you," she said.


	8. Chapter 8

The train sped along. The countryside flew by, bathed in early morning dew. It was already hot; every window was open, but they offered little relief. The crowded car overflowed with noise—snoring, quarreling, laughing, eating. It seemed to Jack, as trains always did, that all of the world was gathered together. There was no end to the stories he could find, the people he could draw. He knew he should be worried, at the very least, but all he felt was contentment. Rose slept beside him, her head on his shoulder. He glanced at her. Her cheeks were lightly flushed with the heat, and beads of sweat dotted her neck. He wished he had a way to cool her.

The previous night had gone by so quickly he wasn't even sure it had all happened. They went home and packed their things. They knew they ran the risk of being seen, but they couldn't just give up everything they had. If nothing else, they had to go back and collect their money. Jack left a note for Fabrizo, explaining where they'd gone and why. He hated not saying good-bye in person, but there wasn't time to wait for him. At the bottom of the paper, he added the general delivery address for Chippewa Falls, in case he needed to find them. The vague plan to eventually go there had crystalized into a reality. It just made sense. The odds of Cal tracing them there were low, and it was better to have somewhere to run to, even if they didn't stay forever.

They kept an eye out for Cal's men, but they didn't see any. Finding a poker game was easy, and Rose was accepted with less fuss than Jack expected. They saw her as an easy mark, a girl with money to lose. Rose glanced at him nervously as the cards were dealt, and he tried to reassure her with his eyes. _I trust you_. Her words kept ringing in his ears, and once again, he was reminded of what a heavy responsibility they brought. He couldn't let her down.

As the game unfolded, Rose's unease melted away, but she kept up a façade of nervousness, even holding the cards incorrectly at times. She looked to Jack, as if for help, and after a while he realized it was all an act. They both sized up the other men at the table, and as they stole a knowing glance at each other, Jack was sure he heard a click, the sound of their minds syncing.

And indeed, it was as if they could read each other's thoughts. Their skills at reading people, learned so differently, coordinated perfectly. Without thinking, Rose devised signals, telling him her strategy. She didn't know where any of it came from. Had these skills been lying dormant in her mind somewhere? Later, she would realize all of her trailing as a society girl and wife had given her everything she needed, just as Jack said.

They had $20.63 saved, and they won another $30.49, more than even Jack had expected. They had train fare to Wisconsin and money to keep them until they figured out what to do next. They left as quickly as they could, realizing the men would soon figure out they had been fooled by Rose's appearance. They ran all the way to the train station, hands clasped. Rose laughed, and she looked as carefree as Jack had ever seen her. He pulled her into the shadows and kissed her. She threw her arms around him. "Is that how you thought it would go?" she asked breathlessly.

"That was better." He kissed her longingly, wanting their connection to go on forever. He hadn't known it was possible to feel this close to anyone; their hearts beat in time, and he wondered how he could have lived so long without her.

…

Rose's mouth was dry when she woke up, and every muscle in her body was stiff. She looked around, unsure where she was at first. "How long was I asleep?" she asked.

"Since around dawn," he said. "It's past one now."

Her stomach gave a loud growl. "I didn't realize I was so tired," she said, attempting to stretch in their limited space. Jack handed her a sandwich and the flask of water from one of their bags. "Thank you," she said gratefully. "You don't happen to have a tub of cold water in there, do you?"

"Afraid not," he replied. "But I'll get you a bath as soon as we get there. Promise. I'll need one too," he added with a laugh.

"How much longer until we arrive?"

"We should be there tomorrow, sometime," he said. "It's a good thing too. We got just enough food, and we can get more water when the train stops again."

"I wouldn't have thought to bring either of those things," she said, shaking her head.

"Sure you would've."

"No. I've never had to. It wouldn't occur to me," she said. "I still expect to find things done for me, as if by magic, even though I know better. Isn't that awful?"

"You're still adjusting. It hasn't been that long."

"Don't make excuses for me, Jack. I'm a spoiled little brat."

"Don't be so hard on yourself, Rose."

"Is this how we'll be?" she asked. "You'll argue with everything I say?"

"When you're mean to yourself, yeah, I will."

"Was that mean?" she said. "It didn't sound so bad to me; I've heard worse."

"You won't, not from me or anyone else, not anymore," he said. "Like we said, one thing at a time. You just gotta try not to think that way about yourself. I don't expect you to know everything I know. And you know plenty of things I don't; you've got skills of your own."

"I did make a nice stack of pancakes, didn't I?" she said, smiling.

"And the way you played last night," he added. "That was amazing."

"You already said that."

"I had to say it again. Rose, you were incredible."

"We both were," she reminded him. "I couldn't have done that on my own."

"I think you could've," he said. "I think you'd be just fine without me."

"Please, don't say that, Jack."

"Why? I just meant—"

"I know what you mean, but it scares me when you talk that way," she said somberly.

"I'm not gonna leave you," he said. "Don't ever be afraid of that."

"I'm not. Not completely. It's the other part of me—the part that's always afraid and doesn't quite believe any of this is real or will last," she replied. "I'm trying not to let her control me, but—"

"Rose-Petal, you don't have to keep explaining yourself to me," he said gently, taking her hand.

Rose sighed. "Explaining myself is one of my skills, I suppose. I just do it, without thinking, even when I don't want to. I've always had to," she added. Her tone lifted. "Let's never talk about any of this again."

"What?"

"I mean it. Jack, let's leave it all back there. We're going somewhere new—well, new for you—and we're really starting our life together, so let's just stop talking about what happened before."

"You can't pretend it didn't happen."

"I'm not saying that. But I don't want to keep discussing it, and I have to work harder to stop," she explained. "I'll never move on if I'm always obsessing over it. How can I make a new life if I won't let the old one go?"

…

But the old life had no intention of letting _her_ go. Their disappearance had been discovered when neither of them left for work. It was overstepping his orders, but Darrin knew what Cal really mean when he said "stay within the law", so he felt no qualms about breaking into their apartment. It was clean and rather empty. There were only signs of one occupant, but his well-trained eye could tell there had bene more recently. The bedroom was empty, and Fabrizo's things were still in the front room. It was clear he slept there. Darrin quickly went over the small rooms, searching for clues, but found none, only a few hairpins left behind by Rose.

The rest of the team was sent to watch the train station and docks, but Darrin was sure they were already gone, if they weren't hiding somewhere in the city. Still, he hoped to find something to take back to Cal, if only to justify his fees. There would be no avoiding his rage when he learned Rose was gone, but Darrin could handle angry clients.

…

Rose stuck her head under the tap. The cold water ran down her neck, into her dress, and over her face. It was one of the greatest pleasures she had ever felt. She washed as best she could, cleaned her teeth, and even tried to rinse out her dress a little. Her hair was still wet when she met Jack at the train. His skin glowed from the recent scrubbing, and his hair was damp. He smiled brightly at the sight of her. "Got us fresh water," he said, holding up a large flask.

"How did you get another one?"

"Traded ours to a guy who didn't want to lug around this one," he replied. "There's two of us' we need more anyway."

She drank deeply; the water was still cold. "Thank you," she said, handing it back.

"You don't have to think me for everything," he said.

"I was taught to always be polite," she said, with a teasing smile/ "And it's a good practice. I don't want you thinking I expect anything."

They settled back into their seats, and the train began to move. Now clean and alert, Rose looked around, marveling at her surroundings. The car was nice, but it was nothing compared to the private compartments she was used to. It was impossible to pick out a single conversation in the chorus of voices. She met the eyes of some of the other women, and there was an exchange of friendly smiles. The thought of being counted as one of them gave her a warm feeling. She sat a little straighter and took Jack's hand, proud of herself and proud to be with him.

"Happy?" he asked.

"Yes."

They fell into a comfortable silence, each watching the stories unfolding around them. Rose watched a group of children playing. All were golden-haired, and she decided they must be siblings. She couldn't help wondering what the child she and Jack would eventually have would look like. Children, rather, for they would certainly have more than one. The thought of having children with Cal had been abhorrent; she would never have any say over their lives, and he wouldn't be any kinder to them than he was to her. Rose hated knowing there would be nothing she could do about it. Being mistreated herself was bearable, most of the time, but she didn't think she could watch her children receive the same. She glanced over at Jack. It wouldn't be that way with him.

Jack was trying to stop memories from resurfacing. The closer they got, the clearer they became. The house. The lake. The woods he roamed through. The fields he worked in. He tried not to see his parents, but they appeared anyway. He heard his mother's scolding as she patched up his clothes, yet again, though there was affection in her eyes. He saw his father, the day he showed him how to shoot, and then when he showed him how to bait a hook. He realized he wanted to show Rose those things.

There was one face he managed to keep at way. Hers. Lucy. He told himself she was married now, happy, and she wouldn't even remember him. They had been kids; it was all so long ago. He knew it hurt her when he left, but he had to go. There was no other way. Surely, she understood by now. They wouldn't have been happy together.

….

Cal chose his words carefully, refusing to let his emotions overtake him. "What does that mean, pursuing leads?" he asked. "Is that a way of saying you don't know where they are?"

"Well, honestly, no, we don't," Darrin said. "But it won't take long to find out. I can assure you. After all, you hired the best."

"You certainly cost enough, but I'm beginning to doubt you're worth it," Cal said derisively. "So far, you've managed to get very little right."

"You did tell us not to approach her."

Cal frowned. "So I did." He twirled a letter open between his fingers; it gleamed in the light, looking more like a newly sharpened weapon than a mere office tool. "Find her," he said. "Do whatever you have to. Just don't get caught, and don't tell me anything. Do you understand?"

…

Despite the train's bumping, Rose's shuffling skills were improving. She used her lap as a table and practiced to pass the time. "We could make a career out of this," Jack joked.

"What, do you mean card playing?"

He nodded. "People do it. Usually just one guy on his own, but we could do it."

"Doing well in one game hardly makes either of us professional gamblers," she said. "Still, I would like to play again."

"You would?"

She grinned sheepishly. "It was fun. And not just because we took those men's money."

"Hey, that part's fun too," he said. "And we needed it."

"But maybe he did too," she mused.

"Rose, you can't think that way if you're gonna play," he said. "I know what you're saying, and you might be right, but we needed it too. And we didn't make them give it to us, and we didn't cheat. They just assumed you didn't know how to play."

"Why can't things be black and white?" she asked, dealing the cards. "Why does everything we do have to be grey?"

"I don't know," he answered.

…..

Rose fell asleep first, lulled by the heat and the rocking of the train. The lights in the car were dim, and Jack couldn't see much. He wasn't bothered by it. He put an arm around Rose, moving her closer in an attempt to make her more comfortable. He could sleep sitting up and wake up without any aches or pains. He could probably sleep standing up, though he hadn't tried.

Jack was starting to drift off when Rose began to fidget. "No," she murmured, shaking her head. She clutched him with one hand and fought off an unseen attacker with the other. "No. Jack."

He lifted her head and gave her a gentle shake. "Rose, wake up."

"Jack." Her voice rose.

"It's just a dream," he said.

Rose blinked a few times, her eyes adjusting to the dim light. "A dream?" she said. She touched his face, making sure he was real.

"Yes. You fell asleep, remember?"

"I did, didn't I?" she said. She lay back against him, hugging him. He stroked her hair. "It was awful, Jack."

"Do you want to tell me about it?"

She shook her head. "I want to forget it."

….

The most logical thing to do was focus on Fabrizo. If anyone knew where they were, it was him. Darrin followed him the next day, learning his routine. If he was lucky, Fabrizo would lead him right to them, one way or another.

…

The sun was sinking behind the trees when the train came to a stop for the last time. Wearily, they gathered their things and followed the line of people outside. Rose wobbled, her legs unsteady after being out of use for so long. Jack put a hand on her back, steadying her. "Thank you," she said. She looked around the small train station. "Now what?"

"I don't know about you," he said. "But I need something to eat."

"A meal would be nice," she agreed.

Once again, they washed as best they could, but Rose couldn't help feeling dirty. She was sure the people they passed were thinking the same thing; why else look at her so curiously? Of course, it was the richness of her dress, plain as it was, and the fact that she was a stranger that drew their attention. Jack kept his head down, wishing he had a hat. It no longer seemed like such a good idea to be there. There would be questions—endless questions, about where he'd gone and why, why he'd come back, and about Rose. What would they say? He realized they had never decided on a story. Even saying they met on a ship was too much; someone might make the connection, though what they could do with it, he didn't know. No-one could prove anything, and they weren't criminals. But still, he felt like a fugitive. There would be questions no matter where they went, he reminded himself. New arrivals always aroused curiosity. But only here did he have to worry about judgment.

They managed to eat without anyone speaking to them, but word that Jack—or someone who looked very much like Jack—had returned began to spread. His sudden departure had been a shock, perhaps one of the biggest the tone had ever seen. Why that boy had just abandoned his family's property, his friends, and the girl he was practically engaged to was a topic some people still debated when there was nothing else to talk about. Equally debated was where he had gone if he would ever return. Some claimed he was on the run from the law, that he was actually a notorious bank robber that had plagued the area, though not many people believed that story. Others said he hadn't left at all but had been killed by Lucy's family, so they could get control of his property. But if that was the case, they'd failed. The Dawson farm had been empty since the day Jack left; the local judge refused to let anyone touch it until seven years passed or official word of Jack's death reached him.

They got a room in the cheaper of the two hotels. It wasn't much, but it was tidy, and there was a bed. There was also a bathroom at the end of the hall, with a tub and running water. Rose filled it with hot water, despite the temperature outside, and sank gratefully into it. Her skin glowed pink when she emerged. She wore a soft, blue nightgown. Jack couldn't resist pulling her to him. She smelled like soap and flowers, so clean and fresh. He wanted to lose himself in her.

"Take your back," she said, kissing his hair.

Reluctantly, he let her go. "Be right back."

…..

The bed was softer than she expected. Rose stretched, luxuriating in the freedom to move however she chose. She sighed as Jack lay down next to her. She snuggled close as he put his arms around her. The breeze that blew in through the window combined with the ceiling fan to cool the room nicely.

"We made it," she said.

"We did."

"What are we going to do now?" she asked after a moment.

"I don't know," he said. "I guess see if I can still claim my property."

"And we'll live there if you can?"

"Maybe," he said slowly. "Yeah. For a while. That's the whole point of coming here, isn't it? But it may not work," he added. It was something he hadn't thought of in their rush to get there. How would they survive here? What would they do for money? Jack hadn't wanted to be a farmer; he never really had, though he was good at it. But if they claimed the land, that what he'd have to do. Unless there was some other way. It wasn't large enough to rent out, and who would want it? Everyone owned their own place that wanted one. Selling was an option, but he didn't want to do that unless he had to. There was something comforting about knowing he owned land, no matter how far away from it he went.

Maybe he could work in town, somewhere. They could keep a garden, just for themselves, make a few animals, but not fully run the place. Yes, that was a possibility. They wouldn't need much.

Rose was heavy with sleep. He wondered if she heard his doubts; probably not, he decided. He closed his eyes, imagining the home they would make, the things he would show her.

 **AN: This is probably the last update for any of my stories until January.**


	9. Chapter 9

"We're almost there," Jack said. "Just through here." He held Rose's hand and guided her through the dense woods. They were thicker than he remembered. Finally, they came to the field. It was overgrown; the grass was up to his waist. The house was small in the distance. But it was there; it was still standing. Rose glanced at him. "Are you alright?" she asked.

"I didn't expect to ever come back," he said. "I wasn't even sure it would still be here."

"Do you want to leave?"

"No. Let's go," he said.

It was a two-story frame house. Once it had been white, but now the paint was chipped and dirty. One of the front steps was broken. The glass in the windows was still intact. The porch was dirty. The rope on the swing in the front yard was broken. Jack didn't know how to feel as they approached. He felt so many things all at once. It was difficult to breathe. Rose squeezed his hand, and he was glad she was there. Facing the memories on his own would have been too much; he would have been crushed beneath them.

The door creaked loudly, but it opened. Inside the air was thick and musty. Rose coughed. Dust swirled around them with each step. The furniture was still there, but filthy and lost beneath the dust. In some cased one touch was all the wood needed to finally give out. Their footsteps echoed dully. Rose shivered despite the heat. It was like wandering through a haunted house. She tried to imagine Jack living there, but she couldn't. She couldn't imagine anyone ever living there.

"I'll go first," Jack said when they came to the stairs. "It might not be safe."

She held to his shirt, stepping carefully behind him. Like the door, the stairs creaked loudly, but they didn't give out. There were four doors on the second floor. "That one's the attic," he said, pointing to the far right. "And that was my room," he added, indicating the middle door.

"Can I see it?"

"There's not much to see," he said. "Let's go back downstairs."

They went over the rest of the house and then out the back door. There was a screened-in porch; beyond that was a shed and barn. Jack was silent as they explored, and Rose left him in peace. In the shed they found shelves still filled with tools. They were covered in dust and grime, but they were still useable. "We can do this," Jack said. "It won't be easy." He turned to her. "What do you think?"

"I think it will be wonderful when we finish," Rose answered. "Though that may not be for a long time."

"C'mon," he said. "Let's go back to town and see about claiming it."

They were coming around the house when a voice called out, "Hey!" It came from a tall, well-built man with brown hair and green eyes. He wore patched pants and a dark shirt with rolled-up sleeves. "Hey, you!" he yelled. Rose moved closer to Jack. Jack squinted, studying the man. Recognition flashed in his eyes.

"Tom McCullough?" Jack called.

Tom eyed them warily. "Who're you?"

"It's Jack. Jack Dawson."

Tom stared at him in disbelief. "It's not."

"Yeah, it is," Jack said. "It's me."

"We thought you'd died," Tom said. "It's been so long. No-one thought we'd see you again."

"No, not dead," Jack said good-naturedly.

Tom held out his hand, and they shook heartily, like old friends. "This is my wife," Jack said, indicating Rose. "Rose." She smiled but didn't know what to say to this strange man.

Tom nodded politely to her. "Ma'am. But Jack, what brought you back here?"

"We decided to come home," Jack replied. "Or home for me. Thought it was time. Me and Rose needed a place to settle."

Tom's eyes dimmed. "Well, everyone'll sure be surprised to hear you're back," he said. "And with a wife. Some people, they didn't think you'd come back married." His sister, Lucy, for one. She believed Jack would return just as he had been the day he left. Tom dreaded telling her the news. There was no predicting how she would take it.

"I'm sure no-one thought I'd ever be back," Jack said. "What're you doing over here?"

"Just checking on the place. We look in on it from time to time," Tom explained. "The bank wanted to take it, but Pa convinced them not to. He said you'd be back for it. Guess he was right."

"That's a relief. We weren't sure if it was still mine." Jack wanted to thank him, but it sounded awkward in his head. He wanted to ask about Lucy, but that sounded even worse.

"Gonna be a lot've work," Tom said, looking around the overgrown field. "This field alone will take a few days, and then there's the house." He stole a glance at Rose. She was pretty, beautiful really, but he doubted she was up to the task. He couldn't see her scrubbing floors or pulling weeds. She looked too delicate for that. Why had Jack married a girl like that? Where had Jack even found a girl like that?

"Yeah, we know," Jack said. "But we can do it."

…

The bank manager peered at them across his desk. His eyes were small and watery. He played with a pen. "Let me understand this," he said. "You've come to claim your property."

"Yes," Jack said. "I was told that was possible. I just wanted to see you first. Make sure everything was handled right."

"Generally we ask for proof of identity," Bob said. "But—"

"You know who I am, Mr. Reed," Jack said. "You've known me for years."

"So I do," Bob said, relaxing slightly. "It's just a rather unusual situation. I didn't expect to see you again. We all assumed—"

"I was dead?" Jack said jokingly. "No."

"You can understand why," Bob said, looking from him to Rose.

"Sure," Jack said. "So, there's no problem?"

"No, I suppose not."

…

Jack walked with a light step. He put an arm around Rose, knowing they were being watched and proud to be seen with her. He didn't care about the dozens of questions they would have to answer anytime they met someone who recognized him, or the gossip that was sure to follow. They were going to make a home. Only the bright future remained.

"Someone's in a good mood," Rose said.

"It's been a good day. I didn't think it'd go so well."

"What now?" she asked.

"How about lunch?" he suggested.

"Lunch sounds perfect."

All eyes were on them when they entered the café. They ignored the stares and found a table in the corner. "You're famous," she teased.

"Well, I did rise from the dead," he joked. "That should get a second look."

"What comes next—with the house and land?" she asked.

"A lot of cleaning," he said.

"I knew that much."

"And when we get the house livable again, we can go stay out there."

"What will we do for money?" she said. It was something she had been wondering since their arrival.

"I don't know yet," he admitted. "But we're gonna figure out something. Last night I was thinking we'd plant a garden, just enough for the two of us. I don't want to run the whole farm, but maybe we could use the fields for something. I never wanted to run it. That's part of why I left." The arrival of a waitress put an end to conversation temporarily. She tried not to stare at them openly. As they ate, the story of Jack's return spread, growing more fantastic with each telling.

…..

The McCullough farm was large and prosperous. They were one of the most powerful families in the area, a position they had attained little by little over the years. Tom was the oldest brother. On his way in he met Billy, the youngest of the boys. "Where ya been?" Billy asked.

"I went over to check on the Dawson place."

"Why do you bother?" Billy said. "It never changes. No-one's ever there."

Lucy was stepping through the kitchen door when she heard Tom say, "There was today." She moved back, listening through the cracked door.

"Who?"

"Jack," Tom replied.

"No," Billy said incredulously. "He'd never come back. Besides, I heard he died."

Lucy held her breath. Her throat tightened on the word died. Jack hadn't died. Why did people keep saying that?

"No, it was him," Tom said. "I talked to him. He said he came back to settle here. He wants the land. He's gonna fix things up again."

Lucy couldn't believe her ears. At last he was home. She had hoped for it for so long, though she rarely mentioned his name anymore. Her brothers knew not to bring him up. Before her death, their mother often lamented Jack's leaving. There were other young men in the area, but Lucy wouldn't see them, and her mother was sure she would end up alone, bitter, and angry. But there was nothing she could do about it, except ask her sons to look after her.

"I never would've guessed it," Billy said. "You told Lucy yet?"

"I'm not sure I should," Tom said. "You know how she feels about him, still…."

"She'll find out anyway. It might as well be from you," Billy pointed out.

"Yeah, but he's not alone. He's got a wife."

Lucy couldn't hold in the cry; a blend of hurt and disbelief, it tore from her throat.

…

They would need more money; there was no way around that. But if they got the house in shape quickly enough, they could stay there and save what they were paying for a room. "Why don't we camp out?" Rose suggested.

Jack gave her a surprised look. "You'd do that?"

"It's warm enough. Why not?"

"But we'd be sleeping outside," he said. "On the ground."

"Oh, is that what camping is?" she said. "I didn't know. I'm guess I'm too much of an indoor girl."

"Okay, I'm sorry," he said. "I just didn't think you'd want to."

"I want to try it," she said. "It doesn't make sense to go all the way out there and work all day just to come back here and pay for a room we're barely in."

"You've got a point. Alright. Let's do it."

….

The water pump still worked. Jack shouted happily when clean water began to flow. "At least we won't be thirsty," he said. Rose just smiled, enjoying his happiness. Once they got past the grimy first layer, the soap was still usable. They filled buckets with soapy water and carried them back to the house. Rose insisted on carrying her own, though it was heavier than she expected. Jack held two easily, and she envied him. But she was determined to keep up with him as much as possible.

They swept the floors, each starting at one end of the house. Rose moved quickly, attacking the dirt, but soon her arms began hurting, and she had managed to do very little despite her efforts. The broom felt odd in her hands. She had seen people sweep, but she wasn't sure how they did it. The servants always made it look so easy.

"Here, like this," Jack said, putting his hands over hers. She jumped, startled. "Sorry," he said. "Hold your hands this way. Don't go so fast. Just—" She let him show her how to move with the broom. "See?" he said.

Rose nodded, slightly ashamed. "Yes. I've got it now." She tried to imitate his movements, but her hands were clumsy. Finally, she cleared out the rooms on her end, and then the porch. Tiny blisters were forming on her hands. She hid them from Jack. Together, they scrubbed each room, first the walls and then the floors. They opened the windows to let in fresh air, and by that afternoon the downstairs smelled of strong soap and clean spring air.

They piled the dishes in the sink and left them to soak with yet another bucketful of water carried from the pump. The furniture was outside, still waiting to have the dust beaten from it. Rose's back ached. She didn't think she could do any more, but Jack didn't seem tired at all. So she pushed herself to keep going. When they stopped to rest, he stripped off his shirt and doused himself with water. Rose couldn't take her eyes off him. He was the most beautiful man she had ever seen.

…

By the time the sun was setting the first floor was finished. Rose didn't know how they had done it. Jack's boundless energy must have spurred them on. The shed and tools were clean. They dragged what they could from the upstairs rooms outside. Jack dug a fire pit, and Rose gathered wood. He showed her how to stack the wood and light it. They drew water from the pump and washed, piling their clothes in a bucket of soapy water. Rose hugged herself, nervous in just her underclothes. "No-one else is out here," Jack said kindly.

"I can't help feeling like I'm going to be seen," she said. She was almost too exhausted to eat, but she managed to devour two sandwiches anyway. She caught Jack watching her and blushed.

"You're cute when you blush," he said. "But you don't have to."

"A lady doesn't eat this way," she explained.

"She might if she's hungry enough," he said.

They spread a blanket on the ground, making a bed in the soft grass. "Here," Jack said, handing her a small jar. "For your hands." 

"I hoped you wouldn't notice," she said.

"Why?"

"It's not—" She shook her head. "Never mind." There was no use explaining, and she was too tired to try. The salve soothed her raw hands, but the rest of her ached. She sighed when they finally lay down. Jack draped a blanket over them and held her against him. "Lay your head on me," he said. "You'll be more comfortable."

"What about you?"

"I'm used to the ground," he replied.

"We did so much today," Rose said yawning. "Who would have thought I…." She trailed off, overcome by sleep.

Jack kissed her hair. "I would've thought it," he said.

….

"Tell me what she's like," Lucy demanded.

Tom ignored her and reached for another biscuit. He hadn't had a moment's peace since she found out about Jack's return. He was looking forward to going out to work; with any luck she wouldn't follow him.

"Just tell her," Adam, the second oldest brother said. "Maybe she'll leave you alone. And the rest of us," he added in a mutter.

"She needs to let it go," Tom said. "It doesn't matter what this girl's like. Lucy, you won't like her, no matter what because of who she is, and there's nothing you can do about it. So, please, honey, just let this go and eat some breakfast." He wasn't trying to sound harsh. He loved his little sister, but he knew how stubborn she could be, and he vividly remembered how deeply she grieved after Jack left. Moving on was the best thing she could do.

Lucy scowled. "I can just go over there and find out myself."

"You'll do no such thing," Tom said.

"You're not Pa. You can tell me what to do," she said, sounding much younger than she really was.

"While he's away I'm in charge," Tom reminded her calmly. "And I say you're not going over there. They've got enough to do. In a few days we'll go over as a family and visit. Jack was our friend too."

Lucy didn't care what he said; she barely heard him. Once they were all outside and the breakfast things were cleared away she stole through the woods, determined to see Jack and this girl for herself. She stayed hidden in the trees, hoping for them to come outside. Jack came out first. Her breath caught in her throat. He was real; he was just as she remembered. She drank in the sight of him, imagining he hadn't left.

But then she saw Rose. Her curls were tied back. She wore a pair of Jack's pants and shirt; her feet were bare. _She looks like a doll,_ Lucy thought scornfully. Her scorn turned to envy as Jack helped her beat a rug clean. Doll or not, she had him.

….

Rose crossed her arms over her chest. "It makes sense," she said stubbornly.

"Yeah, I know, but—"

"But you think we should do it." She softened her pose. "Jack, I don't want to do it either. Don't misunderstand me. I don't want to keep it, but what choice do we have? I'm thinking of us, trying to be practical."

"I love that about you," he said. "But I don't want to think we're getting money from—"

She didn't want him to say it. "Think of it as getting money from me. It's my ring. I'll never wear it again. It only brought me misery, so why not try and get something good out of it? There's a lot we can do without money, but we can't live forever without it."

"I know," he agreed. "I've been thinking about it. I haven't been able to come up with anything." He shook his head. "This isn't the kind of place I can just go find a job to help us along. I told myself we could do that, but it's not gonna work."

Rose put her arms around him. "You don't have to worry so much about this," she said. "You don't have to figure everything out, Jack. You've done enough. You got us this far. Let me take care of things for a while."

He looked down at her silently for a long moment. "We can't sell it here," he said. "No-one around here would buy it, and if they did, they'd have too many questions and wouldn't give us enough. Are you sure it can't be traced back to him? Or us?"

"Only if he reposts it stolen, and only if whoever we sell it to finds out," she said. "But how many diamond rings are there? And why would he report that?"

"To find you?" Jack suggested. "He's not stupid. He knows we'll need money."

"But he won't want to make it public that I'm gone," she said. "Not until he has to. I'm sure he and my mother have come up with all sorts of reasons why I'm not in sight. Trust me, Jack, they don't want a scandal. They'll probably quietly declare me dead in a few months," she added grimly.

He gave her shoulder a squeeze. "Don't think about them," he said. "We're beyond them now. We'll sell it in Chicago, alright? If he does report it stolen, and the news makes it that far, they'll never have any reason to come looking up here."

….

It was a quick trip. They sold the ring easily, earning $5,000, a fraction of its original price, but still more than Jack had ever seen all at once. He doubted he had ever seen so much his whole life, and he wasn't comfortable carrying it. On the train back, he kept reaching into their bag and touching the envelope that held it, reassuring himself it was still there. Before they left Chicago they went shopping. They bought new clothes. Shoes. Drawing supplies. Books. Things for the house, which they had to arrange to have shipped back. Having money was intoxicating. Jack had never appreciated the power it gave a person, but as they approached home, he was glad it was only a temporary thrill.

For the next week they continued fixing up the house. They went into town for supplies a few times, but they weren't approached by anyone, merely looked at curiously. It was as if people were afraid to speak to Jack. After a few days the place began looking livable again, even comfortable. They cut the grass in the fields, an experience Rose found harrowing after Jack warned her to watch for snakes. She wore sturdy boots of her own now and pants to work in. "There's no reason to do all of this in a dress," she said. "I'll just ruin it." Jack agreed.

Finally, the inside was done. The stove worked. There was food on the pantry shelves. The furniture was clean. They had a bed and could sleep indoors again. Rose almost missed sleeping in the field, though. But she was too tired to think much about it. As soon as Jack's arms were around her, she fell into a dreamless sleep.

….

Lucy couldn't help herself. She went over again, just to see what was going on. She couldn't imagine Rose getting through even the simplest chores. She could never help get the place back in shape. What she saw amazed her. Everything looked new, or rather, old, as if no time had passed. She half-expected Jack to come running outside to greet her. But he didn't, and Lucy scolded herself for thinking that way.

She found them down at the lake. They were fishing. Jack was baiting Rose's hook for her; she made a face while he did it. "How can you do that?" she asked, shivering. Lucy shook her head. How could he have married such a simpering girl? Rose's skin was beginning to brown a little, from the days in the sun. Her curls were loose and wild. Lucy couldn't see them, but she had tiny freckles on her nose now. It was the freckles jack bent down to kiss.


	10. Chapter 10

Two weeks after Jack and Rose left Fabrizo came home to find Darrin in the apartment, waiting for him. "Ah, Mr. DiRossi," Darrin said jovially. "Right on time."

"What are you doing here?" Fabrizo asked suspiciously, from the doorway.

"I just came to ask you a few questions. Why don't you come in and sit down?" Nothing could disguise the harshness in Darrin's eyes. Fabrizo kept his distance but did as he suggested. He knew why this strange man was there, "So, you live alone?" Darrin asked. "For how long?"

"Since I came to this country." Fabrizo kept his face blank; he was determined to give nothing away.

"I see," Darrin said. "But didn't you have friends living with you for a while, a couple?"

"No."

"You didn't? But the landlord says three people moved into this apartment in April."

"He's mistaken," Fabrizo said. "Do you want anything else?"

"You know, Mr. DiRossi, it would be wise to cooperate with me," Darrin said. "The man I work for is very powerful. I'm in a position to help you. Money, a better job, anything you want. If you cooperate, that is. If you don't, you might find your life here more difficult than you anticipated. Or you might find yourself back in that little Sicilian village."

"I'm sorry. I can't help you," Fabrizo said coldly.

The next morning he sent a letter to Jack, warning him about what happened. He used a false return address and gave one of the children down the hall a dime to mail it for him, so no-one could intercept it. His worry for his friends increased. Cal would keep looking. Surely they realized that?

….

But Cal was the last thing either of them were thinking about. Fabrizo's letter was lost. It was three months before it arrived, and by then, they both had nearly forgotten Rose had ever been married to someone else. Jack gave her another ring one night, by the lake. The full moon made everything flow. He slipped it onto her finger. "Will you marry me?" he asked.

"Haven't I already?" Rose said.

"I never officially asked you, though."

"In that case, of course I will. I'd like nothing more," she said happily.

Her old life was so far behind her now. At times the urge to write her mother appeared. Just a short letter, with no return address, to let her know she was alive and happy. But she knew better than to actually do it. There could be no contact. Cal would find them, and her mother would never share in her happiness. There were moments when Rose didn't know which was worse, having been married to a man like Cal or having a mother who didn't believe her, who wanted her to stay with him. Orphanhood bonded the two of them together even more.

"Promise me we'll always believe our children," Rose said.

"Of course we will," Jack replied.

"If one of them is in trouble, we'll help. We won't tell them they're making it up," she added.

"We won't ever do that. We'd never do that," he said. He knew what she was thinking of. "We won't make them run away."

As spring blossomed into summer they worked to get the farm in order. There was no division of labor, no men's jobs and women's jobs. Jack showed her how to do everything. She was astonished by his infinite supply of patience. No matter how badly she did something or how long it took her to get it, he never got angry. He never raised his voice or belittled her. Was this, she wondered, how it felt to be respected? Not deferred to or coddled but actually taken seriously as an equal?

They took walks into the woods, where he taught her how to recognize and mark a trail. "You'll never get lost if you do this," Jack promised. Rose didn't know when she would ever be in the woods alone, but she listened attentively. He gave her a pocket knife of her own. It sprang open at the touch of a button. She was never without it. They seldom went into town, so most days she wore an outfit of his. His clothes nearly fit her; the places where she thought they didn't were the places where he thought they were perfect.

Rose was stunned to see him pick up an axe one morning and announce they were going to chop wood. "But it's only July," she said.

"Exactly. Never too early to start getting in the wood for this winter."

Of course, she thought. How else would the keep warm? She remembered what he'd said about how cold the winters were here. Could they ever chop enough wood to survive? Rose watched him swing the axe with ease, splitting the logs. After a few swings he stripped off his shirt. His blonde hair, even more golden in the sun, fell into his eyes. She watched muscles ripple on his back as he moved. She pushed away the spark of desire the sight ignited within her.

"C'mere," he said. "You try."

"Me?"

"Yeah."

"Jack, I couldn't," she said.

He took her hand. "Sure you can." He put the axe handle in her hands. "It's easy."

"But Jack, I'm—You have to be strong to do this. I can't. I'll never manage—"

"Just try, honey," he said. "It's good to know how to use an axe."

"Alright," she said reluctantly.

"Put your hands up like this," he instructed. "Now, raise it—no, not that high—perfect." He stepped out of the way. "Just bring it down on the log, right in the middle as hard as you can."

Rose silently counted to three and then she swung. The axe hit the log exactly in the middle. It split the log into two pieces. She shrieked with joy and surprise. "I did it! Jack, I did it!" She dropped the axe and threw her arms around him. She kissed him. "I did it," she said again, still not quite believing.

"I knew you could. Give it another try," he encouraged.

Rose's back, arms, and shoulders ached by the end of the day, but she didn't care. They both ached. Together, they dragged the largest tub into the kitchen and heated water for baths. Jack poured salts into the water to soothe their sore muscles. They went to bed exhausted every night and fell asleep almost immediately. There was barely time to settle onto the pillow or for Jack's arm to encircle her. Their sleep was deep and dreamless.

….

The world was still a deep blue when Rose began kissing him. She kissed his neck lightly. As she moved over her face her kisses became more insistent. Without opening his eyes, he caught her in his arms. She giggled. "Well, hello," he said, pulling her onto him.

She pushed the hair away from his face. "Good morning." He held her closer. She kissed him; she felt him pressing against her thigh. "You're awfully easy to wake up," she teased.

He took hold of her hips and moved her again. Now, he pressed directly against her. She drew in her breath sharply. "With you to wake up to, who wouldn't be?" he said into her throat. They slept nude, to stay cool and because they liked it. It had been Rose's idea. As his lips moved over her, she was glad she had suggested it.

….

Darrin came back several times. Twice, Fabrizo managed to avoid him. The third time he didn't. "You haven't been home lately," Darrin said smoothly.

"That's not your concern," Fabrizo replied.

"Maybe it is. Actually, I'm not concerned with you. I'm sure you know that. It's your friends I'm interested in."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Fabrizo said.

"Mr. DiRossi, don't insult my intelligence," Darrin said. "We both know you do. You know who I'm looking for and where they are."

"No, I don't."

"My patience is running out," Darrin said. "We'll find them with or without your cooperation."

"I doubt that." It was the most Fabrizo had ever given away.

He sent another letter to Jack. This time he sent it special delivery so it would get there quickly. His other warning, he now realized, hadn't been received.

….

The second letter arrived on the same day as the first. Jack read them quickly; his heart beat faster with each word. He should have known something like this would happen. Why had he thought it was safe to leave Fabrizo alone there? Of course they would question him. Jack was grateful for his friend's loyalty, though he didn't feel deserving of it.

"What's that?" Rose asked.

"A letter from Fabrizo. Two, actually."

Nervousness crept into her voice. "Two? What do they say?"

The tiny post office was nearly empty, but Jack led her outside. They stepped into the small alley next to it. "Someone's been coming by the apartment," he said. "Asking questions about us. One of the letters is from three months ago."

"They've been asking all that time?" Rose knew it was absurd even as she said it. Of course they had been. Cal was still looking for her. The only real question was how he was explaining her absence. "But the first letter is so old."

"I know."

"I knew they wouldn't give up," she said. "It was a mistake to involve you in this, either of you. I should never had done it." Her voice rose. "If he doesn't tell them, they'll—"

Jack took hold of her arms. "Rose, you gotta stay calm," he said. "He's not gonna tell them anything. He wouldn't do that to us."

"But if he doesn't they'll—"

"Ssh. Honey, don't," he said soothingly. "I know you're scared, but everything's gonna be fine. They have no idea where we are, and Fabrizo's Sicilian. They aren't going to scare him." He hugged her. "I'm a little scared too," he added. "But we can't let it control us."

"You are?"

"Yeah. I saw what Cal will do. If it was just him, well, I can handle that. It's all the guys he's got working for him that make me nervous."

"I told you," she said.

"But they won't find us here. How can they?"

"They'll keep coming after him, unless we find some way to help," she said.

"You're right. Rose, I've been thinking about this for a few weeks. You can say no, but what if—"

"We ask him to come and stay here, with us?" she finished.

"Exactly."

"I think it's a good idea," she replied. "It may be what's best. The three of us should be all together. You and he were going to keep traveling together, before I got here, weren't you?"

"We'd talked about it."

"Do you think he'd come?"

"We can ask," Jack said.

It was something Jack had considered even before the arrival of the letters. When they left there wasn't time to invite him along, but part of Jack had wanted to write and ask him once they were settled. It would be good, he decided, to have a close friend nearby. Maybe the three of them, working together, could make a better life than any of them could on their own. So, Jack sent a telegram, in Italian, to Fabrizo, with the idea. They went into town the next day, where the answer was waiting. It was "Yes."

…..

The proposed visit to the Dawsons was put off twice, but finally, the McCullough siblings went through with it. Their father, Frank, still hadn't returned from his trip to Boston, where he was visiting his own brothers. His children wondered if he would ever return, but they didn't concern themselves about it too much. He was happy and cared for where he was. The farm was running smoothly. What more could they ask for?

Lucy hadn't let herself sneak over to see Jack and Rose again. Instead, he had all but confined herself to the house, brooding and snapping at her brothers. Mostly, they ignored her. Responding would only make things worse. "She wants attention," Tom said.

"I do not!" Lucy argued.

"Then stop sulking and let this go," he replied. "He married someone else. You should too."

"Yeah," Adam chimed in. "Don't waste your time with this. I wouldn't."

"You've never been in love," she said. "You don't know."

"Neither have you," Adam said.

"Stop it. Both of you," Tom ordered. "I don't want to hear another word about it."

On the day of the visit Lucy almost refused to go, but she knew Tom would make her. She took great pains over her hair and wore the nicest dress she had. She filed her nails until they were perfect ovals. She dabbed perfume behind her ears and pinched her cheeks to give them more color. If she couldn't have Jack she could still show him what he'd lost by leaving her.

It was a Saturday. Jack and Rose were dressed for going into town. They were freshly bathed. Their clothes were much nicer than those they worked in. Rose wore a simply dress, but its elegance was obvious. Her curls were gathered back and tied with a matching ribbon.

They were surprised to see the McCulloughs approach, but they accept them graciously. "What brings you here?" Jack asked.

"We thought we should visit," Tom answered. As the oldest he had the right to speak for the others. "We wanted to wait until you got settled in first."

They looked around, inspecting the place. The house and other buildings still needed a new coat of paint, but otherwise, everything was in fine shape. Rose felt as if she were under inspection. Lucy seemed to be both trying not to look at her and staring intently at her. Rose wondered where her interest came from. They had all known Jack in the past, but there was more to it than that.

"You've really gotten the place in shape," Bill said approvingly.

"Thanks," Jack replied. "I couldn'tve done it by myself, though. Rose helped. She did more than me."

"No, I didn't," Rose said modestly. "I helped. That's all. Jack had to teach me how to do everything."

Jack tried to hide his awkwardness in front of Lucy. There was no tension, no hostility coming from her brothers, but still, he wondered how much she'd told them. Did they know—No, he told himself. She would never have told them that. They wouldn't be there if she had. He felt Lucy's stare. Her eyes were cold and angry. Why hadn't she moved on? He wished he'd told Rose about her, but it was too late now. He just hoped she didn't say anything before he could.

"Why don't we go inside?" Rose suggested brightly. "It's too hot to just stand out here."

It was cooler in the dim kitchen, with the windows open. "Why'd you come back?" Adam asked.

"I thought it was time," Jack answered. "We needed a place to settle."

"And I wanted to see where Jack grew up," Rose added. "He's told me so much about this place."

"That's funny," Lucy said. "No-one would ever have expected you. Where are you from?" Tom shot her a look, but she ignored it.

Rose hesitated before saying, "Philadelphia." Lying was too complicated. She would only lose track of what she'd said, and Philadelphia was a very large city. She couldn't be the only red haired girl her age to have grown up there. But why was she even worrying about it? These people had no idea who Cal was or who she had been. There was no reason to lie; at most, the needed only to omit a few details.

"You did travel a lot," Tom said to Jack.

Jack laughed. "Yeah, I guess I did. It was something I needed to do," he added seriously, hoping Lucy understood.

"Our father's traveling," Bill said. "He's in Boston now, visiting some family."

"I heard about how he kept the bank from taking this place," Jack said. "I want to thank him for that. I never thought I'd want to come back, when I left, but after I got here, I was glad it was still mine. I was grateful to have a place to come home to."

"So was I," Rose said warmly. "Being here means a great deal to both of us."

"I'm sure it's not like where you lived before," Bill said. "You must be bored here after living in such a big city."

"Oh, no," Rose replied. "I always have something to do. There isn't time to be bored. I much prefer it here. It's so beautiful. I haven't spent much time in the country until now." Lucy held in her comment, but Rose sensed it. She felt her dislike and wondered at it again.

The visit was a short one. They spent another half hour making pleasant conversation, and then they were off. As they went, Jack breathed a sigh of relief.

"She loves you," Rose said quietly.

"What?" The comment startled him.

"It was obvious she felt something. The two of you simply had to have a history together. She wouldn't have looked at me the way she did if you didn't." Her voice was calm, her eyes searching. "What happened between you two?" she asked.

"I was going to tell you," he said. "I hadn't thought about her in so long. I didn't think I'd ever see her again. When I left I never planned to come back; you know that."

"You left her."

"I asked her to come with me. She said no."

"Did you love her?" Rose asked.

"In a way, I guess. We grew up together. I'd known her all my life. We were friends. More than that. Everyone assumed we'd get married when we were old enough. Our families were close. It made sense."

"But you left."

"I left," he said. "Rose, I didn't know what love was back then. I cared about Lucy. I did. I won't lie to you about that. We were—we were close." She understood his meaning. "But it was never—she wasn't—" He tried to find the right words. "What I feel for you is completely different. It's stronger. Better. I don't know how to describe it. With Lucy, I always felt like I was running to catch up with her. We weren't in the same place. She didn't care about art. She didn't dance. She never wanted to travel. She didn't need me." That had always been the worst part, that feeling that no matter what happened, she would never turn to him for help, for comfort, not even for company during the story. Lucy was completely self-sufficient. He didn't want her to cling to him, but he was left feeling lonely.

"And I do all of that?" Rose said.

"I don't mean you couldn't get along without me," he said, trying to explain. "You'd made it on your own; you'd be fine. But you let me help. You let me get close to you, Rose. If I'd stayed, I wouldn'tve been happy. I woulda married her. If my parents had lived, I'd probably have never left, and she wouldn't have been any happier than me."

"But you asked her to go," she reminded him.

"I didn't know all of this yet. I knew she meant a lot to me, and I couldn't just leave her here."

"What if she had said yes?" she asked.

"I don't know," he answered. "I guess I would've married her. It would've been the right thing to do. But then, I would've met you—"

"And we both would have been married," she finished.

"Yeah. Married and unhappy."

"That's a state you're supposed to suffer through," she said. "You aren't supposed to leave. I wasn't supposed to leave."

"People who don't know what being happy's like say that. It's not true. You have no reason to make yourself miserable," he said.

"Would you have left her?"

"For you?" he asked. "Would I leave a woman I don't love for one I do love?"

"She's still hurt over losing you."

"I know. I didn't think she would be. We were so young. I thought she'd go on with her life."

"Why wouldn't she be?" Rose said. "I'm sure I'd never get over you, not if you were alive somewhere, and I could still hope you'd come back."

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you. We've been so busy, and before there were so many other things to think about. It's like we've got our own world out here. I forget about everything."

"So did I. But maybe we can't."

"Do you hate me?" he asked.

"No. I could never hate you, Jack. I'm not even really angry. I'm more surprised than anything, though I don't know why. I knew there were others before me. We've talked about it," she said. "It's just strange, seeing her." Rose could imagine how Jack had felt back then, and she understood. But she understood how Lucy felt too. "I'm not the one who should be apologizing to," she said, not unkindly. "You should talk to her."


	11. Chapter 11

Jack waited until he thought she would be alone before approaching the house. He went around to the kitchen door and knocked three times, rapidly, just as he'd always done. She wore a strange expression. For a moment they just stood here, eying each other. "What do you want?" she asked.

"I came to talk," he said. "If you're willing."

Lucy frowned but stepped aside to let him in. "I can't see what we have to talk about," she said, closing the door with a bang.

The kitchen was the same. Jack could only stare as memories flowed over him. How could this room stay the same while everything else changed so much? "We should talk," he said. "You know we should. I—"

"What?" You came back out of nowhere, after all these years, married?" she snapped. "And now you've come to tell me about it?"

"Not exactly. Lucy, listen, I never thought I'd come back. Remember, I told you I wouldn't."

"So why did you?" she asked coldly.

"We needed to," he answered. "Rose and me. I had to give her a home, a real one. I can do that here."

"How nice for her."

"Please, you gotta forgive me," he said. "I'm sorry for everything. I asked you to come with me. You didn't want to."

"I didn't think you'd really go," Lucy said. "And when you did, I thought you'd come back. I didn't think you'd make it out there, alone. You had nothing. I figure you'd be back. It wouldn't be long, and then—" Her voice cracked.

"And then I'd settle down and marry you," he finished quietly.

"Wouldn't you have? If you hadn't met _her_?"

He shook his head. "No."

"That's not true!" she cried. "You would've."

"No, Lucy, I would'tve," he said gently.

"She's what kept you from it," she insisted. "You met _her_ , and she—"

"She didn't do anything. I left. I asked her to marry me. Rose didn't know anything about this. I hadn't thought about you in so long," he added guiltily. "I just figured you'd gotten married and moved on. I never thought you'd be waiting for me."

"I love you," she said. "How could I not wait for you?"

"It's been five years. If I were gonna come back, I woulda done it already. Didn't you ever think that?"

"My brothers said that. I told them they were wrong. My mother said it too. I wouldn't listen. I wouldn't listen to anyone." Lucy began to cry, soft hiccupping sobs. Jack was at a loss for what to do. Should he comfort her? Would touching her only give the wrong impression?

Finally, he settled for putting a hand on her shoulder. "I'm sorry," he said. "Lucy, I'm so sorry. I would've never come back if I knew it would hurt you like this. I never wanted to hurt you. Please, believe that. I still care about you. You'll always be a friend, more than that, really. I—"

"You _care_ for me, but you don't _love_ me," she cried angrily. "You never did."

"Not the way you wanted me to. I thought I could at first, but it wouldn't have worked out between us. You'll see that, if you let yourself," he said.

"How do you know? You ran away and left me here, alone, not caring what would happen. You were free to do what you wanted, but what about me? I couldn't run away!"

"You didn't want to, You said—"

"Maybe I didn't want to. Maybe I didn't see a reason to leave," she said. "But if I'd wanted I couldn't have. I couldn't just abandon my life here to go running off with you, to wherever, with no money. Who would do that?"

Jack wanted to say, _Rose did_ , but he knew better. "You're right," he said. "You belong here. You were better off here. But I had to leave. I might leave again, one day, who knows?"

"And she'll go with you."

"Yeah. She'll go with me."

"I hate her," Lucy spat. "I hated her the first time I saw her. Why would you want a doll like that?"

"You don't know her," he said.

…..

Rose was in the garden when he came back. "How did it go?" she asked.

Jack dropped down next to her. "I'm glad it's over."

"Not well then."

"She's angrier than I thought," he said. "And hurt and—" He stabbed at the freshly dug earth with a trowel. "It's all my fault. I ruined her life."

"It's not all your fault. You can't force yourself to love her."

"It's easier to blame myself," he said. "I feel responsible."

"She's blaming me, isn't she?" Rose said.

"She blames you."

"You didn't tell her—"

"Of course not," he said quickly. "I tried to make her understand. Explained how I felt. Told her I was sorry. I don't know what else to do. We can't leave, and even if we could, we shouldn't have to. We ran away once. I'm not doing it again."

"I don't want to run anymore, Jack," she said. "I like it here. I like the way we live here."

"So do I."

"I feel useful here," she said. "I feel like I can do things. I'm not just a burden on you."

"You've never been a burden, Rose."

"Would you tell me if I were?"

"I'd tell you," he said. She believed him, and that was comforting.

…

Fabrizo was gone when Darrin came back. There was nothing to show anyone had lived in the little apartment. All of Fabrizo's things were gone. What food he couldn't take had been given away. The furniture, which came with the place, could have been anyone's. Darrin went over every inch of the rooms, looking for some forgotten clue, but there were none. Cursing, he finally left. As he widened his search to include the whole neighborhood, Fabrizo was asleep on a train, heading for Wisconsin.

…..

Rose polished every corner of the house. She left the window in Fabrizo's room open so it could air out even further. The bed linen was freshly washed and smelled like the summer sun. But no matter what she did, she couldn't shake the feeling of unease that had settled over her. It was important that Fabrizo see how well they were doing—how well _she_ was doing. He had to see she wasn't just a weight around his friend's neck. He had never said such a thing, but she was still sure he must be thinking it. She didn't blame him. It made her all the more eager to gain his approval, and in a way, she decided, this was a good thing. Jack loved her. He was patient and kind. But she still wasn't used to that sort of treatment, and at times, she didn't know what to do without a critical eye watching her. Maybe having him there would help her be more comfortable. At least she knew Fabrizo wouldn't hurt her.

"Alright, you've gotta stop," Jack said, taking the dust rag from her hands. "Everything is perfect."

"I just want to make a good impression," she said.

"Rose, he's our friend. He's not gonna be looking for dust in the corners. The place looks great, especially if you think about what we started with."

"I know. I know. And he's _your_ friend, not mine, not really. He tolerates me because you like me."

"That's not true." They'd had this discussion before, in New York, and he'd hoped it was settled. Part of him knew, though, it wouldn't be until Fabrizo told her so himself. Jack wasn't sure that would happen. It wasn't Rose's fault. It wasn't her he didn't trust. Jack understood how Fabrizo felt, and he hoped now, away from Cal and everything else, they could get past it. They were the two most important people in his life now, and he wanted them to be friends.

"It doesn't bother me. I understand," Rose said. "I came in and upset your lives. But I do want to try and become his friend, and the best way to do that is by showing I'm not just decorative."

"I guess I'll leave you to it then."

…..

It was too hot for sleep. The sheet had been tossed from the bed, and they lay, naked, not touching, wishing for a gust of wind to blow across them. But the air was still. Sweat covered their bodies like a thin layer of icing on a moist cake. Rose's hair was spread over the pillow, but it still felt too heavy. Sighing, she rolled over, hoping the change in positon would help.

Jack looked at her bare back; her skin gleamed in the moonlight. It reminded him of the way a full moon reflected off water. The lake. How could he have forgotten the lake? "Rose, you awake?" he asked.

"Yes."

Jack moved closer. "You feel like getting up?" he said.

"Why?"

He kissed her shoulder. "I know a way to cool off."

"I think that would just makes us even hotter," she replied, sounding intrigued.

She felt his grin. "No. Let's go swimming."

Rose turned toward him. "Now?"

He nodded. "Now."

"What if someone sees us?"

"It's the middle of the night. Who's gonna see us?"

"I suppose you're right," she said. "It does sound fun."

It didn't take long to get to the lake. They ran once it was in sight, hands clasped. They stopped at its edge and slipped out of their clothes. Rose couldn't help looking around, half-expecting someone to be watching. But there was no-one. The world was silent and still—that is, until Jack threw himself into the water, yelling happily.

"Jack!" she whispered loudly.

"It's okay," he assured her. "Rose, no-one can hear us. We're alone." He held out his hand, and she ran into the water.

"I know," she said, sheepishly. "I'm still not accustomed to being alone like this." She took his hand. The water was cool, but the muddy lakebed felt strange on her feet. She didn't know whether she liked its squishy texture or not.

"Careful," he cautioned. "Don't step too hard. You might hit a sharp rock."

"I've never swam in a lake before," she said.

"I'm glad I'm here for it, then."

A fish brushed her leg. Rose cried out in surprise, leading toward him. Laughing, Jack caught her in his arms. "It's just a fish," he said. "There's nothin to be scared of."

"Stay with me?"

"I'll stay with you," he said.

Jack held her hand as they swam together. Slowly, they moved in a circle that took them further out. Rose tried to reach the bottom but couldn't. Panicking, she put an arm around Jack and held on tight. He wrapped his arms around her, holding her against him. "It's alright," he said. "It's not the ocean. We won't get swept away."

"I'm being rather silly, aren't I?" she said.

"No." He kissed her. "Don't worry about how you look. Just have fun."

"I've never—I learned to swim, but I didn't go out in the water very much," she explained. "I've never been in water this deep before."

"You're safe," Jack said. "I've got you."

They looked into each other eyes and knew they weren't just talking about swimming.

…

Rose shivered as they ran back to the house. Fat drops of water rained from the ends of her hair, making her even colder. Was it still the same temperature outside? Had they really been sweating before, too hot to sleep?

They spread their clothes across the back porch to dry. Jack kept hold of her hand as they hurried back to bed. He moved his fingers across it, caressing her palm. It was a move she had come to know well. It didn't always mean anything. Jack liked physical contact. He craved touch as much as she did. No-one else had ever understood that about her. No-one else had taken seriously the idea that a simple touch could make a person feel loved. Wanted. Safe.

Rose always felt those things with Jack, but right then she mostly felt wanted. Looking at him was still so odd; it felt forbidden. In all the times she'd slept with Cal she had never seen him naked, not completely. Of course, she hadn't really wanted to either. But things were different with Jack. The longer they were together, the more she wanted to see him.

….

They borrowed a horse and cart in town to pick up Fabrizo at the train depot. "We'll have to get some horses of our own," Jack said.

Rose petted their velvet heads. They looked at her with gentle eyes, and she felt an instant connection to them. "Can we ride them when we do?" she asked.

"Of course," he said. "I still hafta teach you to ride like a man."

"What about the tobacco?"

"Do you really want to learn that?"

"No," she said. "Do you know how?"

"Yeah," he nodded. "It's alright. I didn't like it much."

"I'm glad. Kissing you wouldn't be nearly as fun if you did."

"Good reason not to try again," he said.

It was a cloudy day, which provided some respite from the heat. Rose sat close to Jack, amazed by how well he drove the cart. He barely had to move his hands to tell the horses what to do.

"I can't believe you're so skilled," she said.

"What do you mean?"

"Just look at the way you're handling the horses."

"It's nothing," he said. "They knew know what to do." His modest couldn't hide his pleasure at her praise. Most of the time Jack took his skills for granted. He knew what any man of his background knew, maybe a little more thanks to travel, but still, he wasn't special. The only thing that might set him apart was his drawing, but he knew he they weren't worth much, no matter what they meant to him. "I can show you how, if you like," he offered.

"You mean, I would drive?" she said hesitantly.

"Sure, if you want." He held the reins out to her. Rose looked at them for a moment before taking them. She felt a rush of power.

"What do I do now?" she asked.

"Just hold them. Pull back when you want the horses to stop. Don't pull too hard," he explained. "Use them to steer when it's time to turn. But don't hold them too loose either. You might lose control."

Rose nodded, taking in his directions. "Alright," she said. "I can do this."

"Sure you can," he said encouragingly.

She drove the rest of the way, without incident. Jack had to help when it was time to stop, but she didn't let that bother her.

The depot wasn't crowded. The only passenger getting off the train there, aside from Fabrizo, was the mail. He looked around the small platform curiously. He smiled when he saw them. They hurried forward. Rose hung back as the two friends embraced. Fabrizo turned to her, holding out his hands. "Rose," he said. "It's good to see you again." They hugged tentatively.

"It's good to see you, too," she said sincerely.

"How was the trip?" Jack asked.

"Fine," Fabrio said. "Long. Hot. I'm glad it's over."

"We're not too far from home," Jack said.

"I don't mind," Fabrizo replied. "Now that I'm here, everything's fine."

The talk during the journey home was light. Rose knew they were avoiding the reason he'd come, the reason they'd all come there, but she couldn't bring herself to mention it. Fabrizo admired the house and garden. He was impressed by how much work they'd done.

"You shoulda seen Rose chopping wood," Jack said proudly. She ducked her head.

"Really?" Fabrizo said, impressed.

"I didn't do as much as Jack," she said. "He can get a lot more done than I can." Fabrizo looked as if he wanted to reply but didn't.

…..

"I hope this room is alright," Rose said. She lingered in the doorway, as he looked around.

"It's nice," Fabrizo said. "I like it." He gestured toward the jar of flowers on the table. "Thank you for these."

"I thought they would be nice in here," she said. "They match the blanket."

"So they do."

There was an awkward pause. They looked at each other, both waiting for the other to speak. "Well—" Rose said.

"Rose—" he began. It always startled her, hearing her name spoken in his thick accent. More often than not he said it the Italian way, and she felt as if he were speaking to someone else. "You're nervous around me, no?"

"No," she said, shaking her head. "Maybe, a little," she admitted reluctantly.

"Why? You have no reason to be."

"I know. It isn't you. It's—I want to make a good impression on you," she said. "Better than I did before."

"Why would you need to do better?" he asked.

"I know you would rather I wasn't here. You would prefer if I hadn't dragged Jack into my problems."

"I'd like things to be simpler," he said. "For you and for Jack. I don't—I don't dislike you."

"But?"

"But I worry about him," he said.

"Because of me."

"Because of your husband," he replied. "He is a rich and powerful man, and from what I've seen, a mean and vicious one as well. I saw the way he hurt you two, on the ship. I know he hurt you before that, and if he finds you, he'll do it again."

"Yes," Rose said quietly.

"And if he finds you with Jack—"

"He'll kill him," she finished. "He'll kill both of us."

"You're very afraid of him, no?"

"Terrified. But I'll kill him before he can hurt Jack again," she vowed, eyes burning.

"What about you?" he asked.

"What about me?"

"What about if he hurts you, Rosa?"

"It's Jack I worry about," she said. "I know what he'll do to me. I accept the way things are before I ever met Jack. I assumed he would kill me, eventually, possibly without even meaning to."

Fabrizo understand why Jack wanted so badly to protect her. She was so fragile and sad. The more she spoke, the more she seemed to disappear into herself, getting smaller and smaller. It wasn't right for her to be so afraid, so resigned to death and pain. He was touched by her devotion to Jack. "Aren't we friends?" he said.

"Are we?" she said.

"Don't you know?"

"You're Jack's friend," she said. "And I'm Jack's—" She hesitated before saying, "Wife."

"But aren't we friends?" Fabrizo pressed.

"I'd like us to be."

"We will be," he said.

"We both love him," she said.

"Yes, but better for us to learn to care for each other," he said. Fabrizo meant it. Already, he felt better, more hopeful. The farm was peaceful, the countryside lovely. Together, the three of them could make new lives.


	12. Chapter 12

There were still no leads. Fabrizo disappeared without a trace. The city was teeming with young Italian men. Descriptions and eye witness accounts were no help. There was no way of knowing which, if any, of the stories were about him. If only he had some sort of distinguishing feature, something that set him apart from all the other dark haired, accented men, but Darrin could find nothing like that. Fabrizo came into the country alone. Jack was his only close friend. The people he worked with knew nothing, or more likely, they would tell nothing. Cal as furious about the lack of results, but he refused to call off the search. Darrin and his team would just have to get more creative. It would have helped if Cal stopped refusing to make Rose's disappearance public, but he wouldn't hear of it.

…

Fabrizo settled in easily, and soon they felt as if he had always been there. Rose was glad Jack had someone else to talk to. He would never say it, but she was sure he liked having another man around. As wonderful as their relationship was, there were times when they both wanted a little time apart. She wished there were more women nearby, but Lucy was the closest one. There was no chance of making friends with her, though Rose did occasionally wonder if a peace offering might help. If she sent Lucy something, perhaps things might change, or at the very least, maybe she wouldn't be so hostile. Being disliked didn't worry Rose, but she knew Lucy's opinion could influence the rest of the town's opinion of her. She didn't want to be ostracized by everyone in the area.

She and Fabrizo were getting closer. That was one consolation. They didn't have long discussions or share secrets, but they talked more now than ever before. Rose didn't feel quite so awkward around him, and she didn't worry he was judging her. Fabrizo saw how hard she tried to keep with the work, and he was impressed by how well she did. It was hard to tell she came from a world of leisure and privilege. She was funny too. He hadn't realized it before.

Jack liked watching the two of them become friends. As far as he was concerned, it was a perfect arrangement. Well, it was almost perfect. Fabrizo needed a girl of his own. Jack imagined the four of them as a kind of extended family, with Fabrizo as the brother he never had. Their children would grow up together, but there would be no pressure on them to fall in love. They would be free to see each other any way they chose—as cousins or as something more; it wouldn't matter either way.

Rose found Fabrizo's skills nearly as fascinating as Jack's. He knew things she never expected any man to know, and like Jack, he was willing to teach her anything she asked about.

"I thought cooking was considered a woman's task," Rose said, half-joking.

"Only a fool says that," Fabrizo replied. "In my village everyone appreciates good food, and everyone knows something about making it. Some know more than others, yes, but we all can manage."

"How did you learn?' she asked.

"My mother taught me some things; my father taught me others," he said. "They had different, uh—" He searched for the word.

"Specialties?" she offered.

"Si. Yes, that's it." He laughed. "I couldn't say it."

"You speak English very well, though."

"Not perfectly," he said. "But thank you. Soon, I will."

"You're welcome."

"You don't speak any Italian, do you Rosa?"

Rose shook her head. "I'm afraid not. English and French are all I know."

"That's too bad. But you know, I could teach you Italian."

"Would you?" she said eagerly. "You wouldn't mind?'

"No. It'll be fun. Jack knows a little. I taught him some," he said. "I got tired of translating for him," he added, with a chuckle.

"I was impressed by the way he wrote to you in Italian."

"It is impressive. And useful," he said.

"And useful," she agreed. "I always wished I could express myself in a language no-one around me could understand. Although, it seemed like I was always speaking a language no-one else could understand." She laughed wryly. "But I wished there was a way for me to express myself safely, you know?"

"We all wish that sometimes," he said. "I can understand why that would be important to you."

"I don't mean to sound self-pitying," she said.

"You don't."

"My life really wasn't _that_ awful. My suffering wasn't anything compared to the things other people have to endure. At least, it wasn't too awful until I married," Rose said. "I wasn't happy, but I knew it could be worse."

"That doesn't mean your suffering doesn't matter," Fabrizo said. "And you know you aren't the only one who suffers, so you aren't—uh—"

"A brat?"

"Si. A brat," he said. "If that was you, Jack wouldn't love you so much."

She smiled slightly. "I guess not. You remind me of him. I can see why you're such good friends."

"I'll consider that a compliment."

"You should," she said.

Jack came in at that moment, sketchbook under his arm. "Whatcha doin?" he asked cheerfully.

"Talking," Rose said, leaning up for his kiss.

"I'm stealing your wife," Fabrizo said. "You leave her alone too much and with a Sicilian. Bad choice."

Jack took a seat at the table. "If she wants to go, I won't stop her," he said, shrugging.

"You wouldn't fight for me?" she said, gasping in mock horror. "Really, Jack?"

Jack put his hand on hers. "You want me to fight what makes you happy? Cause I won't do that."

Rose felt warm and silly. Every time he said something sweet for no reason her heart melted all over again. She wished she could stop herself from smiling so widely. "You convinced me to run away with you," she said. "What more do you want?"

At times like these Fabrizo felt out of place. They forgot about him completely. They gazed at each other, oblivious to everything else. It was funny and cute at the same time. He'd seen couples act this way, but he'd never seen Jack do it. Jack never formed attachments, not until Rose came along. Everything was always casual. He never promised anything he couldn't or wouldn't do, unlike some men who would say anything to get a girl's dress off. Fabrizo had never treated women badly, but after traveling with Jack for a while, he began paying more attention to the way he behaved with them. In his village women were often revered for their status as mothers or protected, but they were never equals. Jack was the first man he ever met who thought otherwise.

This was different than anything that had come before. Fabrizo was almost jealous watching them. In spite of the risk, they were lucky to have found one another.

…

"We can't keep this up forever," Ruth said. "Some people are asking questions. It's been months since anyone saw her. We can't just keep saying she's ill."

"I know that," Cal said tersely. "But no-one has reason to suspect anything. No-one else knows what that fiasco on the ship."

"Unless a maid or one of the stewards said something," she replied. "Or one of _his_ friends. It could get out. It may have gotten out already. The story doesn't have to come from a reputable source to spread. You know how gossip works."

"We'll find her soon."

"You've been saying that all along, but we're no closer to bringing her back now than we were when this started," Ruth said. "She could be anywhere by now."

"They have no money," he pointed out. "Where could they possibly go?"

"Money doesn't stop a man like him. I think we saw that."

"I'm doing everything I can," Cal said. "Any day now, we'll find her. One clue is all we need."

Ruth wasn't entirely oblivious to what went on in her daughter's marriage. She chose to ignore or refused to believe the worst of it, as she had done with her own marriage and that of her parents. Most, if not all, husbands were harsh. Men were difficult to live with. Hadn't her own mother told her that often enough? Keeping them happy took effort. It was a thankless, unceasing job, and Rose never tried. That was the main problem. She deliberately tried Cal's patience.

More than once Ruth had explained the importance of getting along with men, of doing things the way they wanted. It was the price of their protection. Cal took care of them. His name and fortune sheltered them. What more did Rose want? Husbands were providers; they were necessary only for that and children. They weren't friends or companions. Women weren't either, with few exceptions. Her views, though shared by many, made for a rather small and lonely life.

"I hope so," she said. "I want her back."

…..

"No, no, thinner," Fabrizo said. "We're making noodles not bread."

"Like this?" Rose asked.

"Yes," he said. "Bene."

"Why don't I just make bread?" Jack suggested.

"They're not so bad," Rose said. "You just need to thin them out a little." She reached for his dough. "May I help?"

"Sure," Jack said. He stepped back and watched her work. The dough molded easily for her, rolling into the right shape and size. Fabrizo moved faster, making five to her two, but that didn't matter.

"What are you smiling at?" Rose asked.

Jack shrugged. "Nothing."

"Why don't you stop staring and help?" she suggested playfully. "Maybe we'll catch up to the Italian Wonder."

"It would take three of us," Jack said.

"She might have a better chance on her own," Fabrizo joked.

"You saying I can't do it?" Jack said, feigning offence. "I can do this."

"Sure you can," Fabrizo replied. "Right Rosa?"

"If he keeps trying," she said. "But it looks like he wants to give up. I never expected that."

"I'm not giving up," Jack said.

"I thought he could do anything," Rose said melodramatically. "But it's nice having a skill he doesn't," she added, laughing.

"You've got lotsa skills," Jack said.

"Oh yes, I can sit very still and be quiet for hours at a time," she replied. "It's so useful."

"You can do more than that," Jack said.

"I do wear clothes well," she said. "I'm like a living statue. I wonder if three's a demand for such a thing? I suppose I could be a model."

"Jack doesn't look happy with that idea," Fabrizo said. "Maybe you should teach French."

Rose glanced over at Jack. He tried to hide it, but she saw his frown. "Yes, I could teach French," she said. "I could teach _you_ , in fact. We could trade, my French for your Italian."

"We'll trade," Fabrizo agreed. "I didn't really learn any when I was there."

"But Jack, you did, right?" Rose asked. An anxiety knot formed in the pit of her stomach. It was one frown; it could be about anything; it probably meant nothing. And even if it did have something to do with her, did it really matter? She and Jack could disagree. They could think and like different things. The way they felt about each other wouldn't change. There was no reason to be nervous.

But she was. Rose tried to shake it, but she couldn't. Being alert for signs of danger was second nature to her, even after a few months of peace and safety. Jack's grin settled her nerves a little, but she was still on edge for the rest of the afternoon. Her hands lost their nimbleness. "Maybe I can't do it after all," she said apologetically. "I must have spoken too soon."

"You'll get it," Fabrizo encouraged.

Jack noticed the way her hands gently shook. Everything else about her appeared normal, or it would to someone who didn't know her well.

"Maybe I should just stick to being still and quiet," Rose said self-deprecatingly. "It's nearly impossible to fail at that. Why don't I go bring in the laundry?" she suggested. "It's probably dry by now."

"I'll help," Jack offered.

"No, I can do it," she said. "At least, I _think_ I can manage it."

Jack watched her go. "What just happened?" he asked, turning to Fabrizo.

"Do you not know? I assumed you did."

"Something upset her," Jack said. "But I don't know what."

"She's a very sensitive girl, no?"

"In some ways. The life she's had, it's…bothered her, you know? I thought she was getting over it," he said. "She's been so happy. You've seen the difference."

"She isn't so nervous lately," Fabrizo agreed. "She's a lot more confident."

"Right. It's like she always lived here," Jack said. "You'd never know those terrible things happened to her….I should go talk to her."

"Maybe you leave her alone for a while," Fabrizo suggested. "She may want some time by herself. Before, there were always people around. She might like the chance to breathe and sort things out."

"Yeah, you're right," Jack said, sighing. "She'll be fine."

….

Rose was quiet for the rest of the day. She responded when they spoke to her, but otherwise she said nothing. They went about their usual routine, but there was tension in the air. It made Rose even more nervous, which in turn bothered Jack, who didn't understand where her discomfort came from. They were caught in a cycle they couldn't escape. Fabrizo tried to lighten the mood, but his efforts were in vain.

Rose was brushing her hair when Jack came into their room. "Hey," he said. He smiled warmly at her reflection in the mirror.

"Hello." She smiled back, but there as a hesitancy in her eyes.

Jack kissed the top of her head. "Tired?"

"Not really," she answered.

"You wanna stay up?"

Rose shook her head. "No, let's go to bed. I'll fall asleep eventually."

She settled into his arms, but there was something different. Her body was rigid, as if she were uncomfortable being so close to him. "Rose, did I do something?" he asked.

"Why would you ask that?"

"You seem upset," Jack said. "You have since this afternoon. I don't know why, but if it's me, I'm sorry. I don't know what I did."

"It isn't you," she said.

"Then what is it? It can't be Fabrizo. You two've been getting along great. Haven't you/"

"It's not him either. He's wonderful. I really like him."

"Then what is it?" he asked again.

"I don't know how to explain it. I probably imagined it. When we were talking earlier, do you remember the way you frowned at me?"

"The way I frowned?" he said.

"When I mentioned being a model. You frowned. You tried to hide it."

"That's what upset you?" he said. "Honey, I didn't mean—"

"I know you didn't mean anything by it," Rose said. "I know how absurd it sounds. But when I saw it…there was this disapproval about you. You've never looked that way. I didn't want to say anything. It's so ridiculous. But it scared me." She looked up at him. "It reminded me of the way Cal looked at me. I don't know I felt it so strongly," she went on. "Little things terrify me. I get nervous, and it just builds from there. I can't control it."

"It's not ridiculous," Jack said. "You shouldn't talk about yourself that way. Your feelings matter, Rose. I don't care who told you they don't. It's not true. You've gotta be nicer to yourself. I can't do it all."

"I know. It's a very difficult thing to do."

"After what you lived through, I'm sure it is," he said. "But you're not in that anymore. You're with me, and nothing like that's ever gonna happen again. I understand it'll take more time to get over it, but you're getting there. You just hafta keep trying. Rose, if you could see yourself…"

"What would I see?" she asked.

"You'd see a smart, capable woman," he replied, kissing her cheek. "Beautiful and smart and brave."

"Do you really think I'm all of those things?"

Jack put his hand on her face. "I think you're everything," he said.

"You said that before. It seems like years ago, almost," she said.

"I meant it. If you get scared, that's fine. I understand. Just tell me when it happens. Tell me how to help. If that means leaving you alone, then I'll do it," he said.

"Would you stay this patient?" Rose said. "That helps more than anything."

"Of course." He hugged her tighter. "And I'll try not to frown," he added.

"You can frown. You can even disagree with me. Just…"

"What?" he prompted.

"You never yell," she said. "Or you haven't yet. Jack, don't ever, please."

"I wouldn't, not at you. You're my wife. That's not how you treat your wife."

"I know _you_ believe that," she said.

"Because it's true," Jack said. "No matter what happens, no matter what you do, I'll never act the way he did. You know that. You trust me, Rose?"

"I trust you. I just forget sometimes," she said. "I forget I'm safe. That's _almost_ a terrifying feeling. I don't always know how to handle it. When Fabrizo first arrived, I was glad he was here because I thought I needed to be around someone who disapproved of me, someone who didn't love me. I thought it would help."

"Why would you need that?"

"I've spent my life trying to please everyone," Rose said. "I never succeeded, but at least I knew what to do. I knew what was expected of me. With you, there are no expectations, or if there are, they aren't impossible. I can make you happy. I don't even realize I'm trying to sometimes, but you're pleased with me anyway. It's strange."

Jack was struck once again by how sad her life sounded. He couldn't believe she managed to survive in such a cold and hostile world. Had no-one loved her at all before him? Did no-one care if she was miserable? Or frightened all the time? Didn't they notice a causal change in expression could send her into a panic? It wasn't right. Thinking about her life made him angry. He wished he'd found her sooner. He wished he could have taken her away before she ever met Cal. He wished she'd never been hurt.

Jack held her against him and kissed her slowly, as if he could erase everything that happened in the past.

"I'm happy," Rose said. "Despite all the things I say and the absurd ways I behave sometimes, I'm really happy here, Jack. I wouldn't change anything. I'd go through all of it again, if I knew I was going to be with you at the end."

"You don't have to do that," he said. "And if you think you're happy now, just wait. Things'll get better."

"I don't know if I can handle that."

"We'll figure out a way," he said. "You're my wife. I'm always here for you."

Rose smiled. "Say it again."

"What? Wife?"

She nodded. "Yes."

"Wife." He kissed her. "Mrs. Dawson." He felt her body shift, angling toward him. Her arms were around him now. "Rose Dawson," he whispered, nuzzling her neck.

"I like when you talk," she whispered.

Jack grinned. "I know," he said.


	13. Chapter 13

"It's alright to plant useless things?" Rose said. She looked from the packets of seeds to Jack.

"You can grow anything you want," he said. "And flowers aren't useless."

"We can't eat them."

"What about honeysuckles? Or rose hips?" He put a hand on her hip. "Maybe not this one," he added in a low voice. Grinning, he moved closer.

A light blush spread across her face. "Jack," she said through a tight jaw. She looked around, expecting to see stares, but the other shoppers weren't paying any attention to them.

"Sorry," Jack said. "I got carried away." He kissed her hair. "You do that to me."

"I'm not _that_ special, Jack."

"Yes, you are," he said.

Rose smiled, blushing even more under his gaze. "What should we get?" she said, turning back to the seeds.

"Peonies."

"Do you like those?"

"They're my favorites," he said. "Or they were. I like roses best, now."

"What else?" she said.

Meanwhile, across the store, Fabrizo's attempt to browse was drawing almost as much attention as an attempted robbery would have. Jane, the girl who worked behind the counter, couldn't take her eyes off him. Marianne, Julia, and Florence had all forgotten their reasons for coming in. They clustered together, pretending not to watch him. They followed at a distance, whispering and giggling. Fabrizo tried to ignore it. It was strange yet flattering at the same time. He'd always been well-liked; he'd always had a fairly easy time with girls. But this was different. This was the sort of reaction he'd grown used to seeing Jack get.

Jack still got plenty of looks, even with Rose by his side. He didn't seem to hear the sighs or whispers that followed him. Fabrizo did. Occasionally, Rose's expression changed, as if she too noticed them.

What changed? Fabrizo wondered. Why all this interest in him? Florence, the boldest of the three, rushed forward, bumping into him. "Oh, I'm sorry," she said. "How rude of me."

"It's fine," Fabrizo said pleasantly.

She smiled. "I haven't seen you before."

"I just moved here." He held out his hand. "Fabrizo."

"Fabrizo." She said it slowly. "Is that Italian?"

"Yes."

"I'm Florence," she said, shaking his hand. "What must you think of me?" She laughed, lowering her eyes demurely. "What brought you here?"

"My friends." Fabrizo indicated Jack and Rose with a tilt of his head. They didn't notice.

"You know Jack?" Florence leaned toward him. "Really? For how long? Do you know why he came back?"

"We met a couple of years ago," Fabrizo said. "We traveled together for a while, but it was time to stop. To make a home. I don't know anyone else in this country well, so—" He shrugged. "Here I am."

Florence spoke quietly. "What do you know about his wife?"

"Rose? What do you mean?" His tone was light, but the question raised his suspicions. He knew better than to go around talking about her past to anyone.

"Who is she? Where's she from? How did they meet?"

"Well—" Fabrizo was saved from answering by Jack's call of, "Hey, Fabrizo, you ready to leave?"

"Yes," he called back. To Florence he said, "I'm sorry. It was nice to meet you."

The girls watched him leave, lovesick and intrigued.

…..

"Those girls were certainly interested in you today," Rose said.

Fabrizo shrugged and hung another shirt on the clothesline. "I guess."

"You guess? Didn't you see it?"

"Maybe. I didn't think you did, though," he said.

"We saw," she said knowingly. "We thought it was best to leave you alone. It didn't look like something we should interrupt."

"It was nothing," he said. "One girl, she talked to me, but…."

"But what?"

Fabrizo shrugged again. He couldn't find the words to express how he felt. "I'm not looking for that yet," he said. "For girls. I like things the way they are, you know?"

"I understand. I didn't mean to push you," she said. "I just—and Jack as well—we want you to be happy here, as happy as we are."

"I'm fine, Rosa. I'll find a girl," he said. "My own Rosa, maybe soon, maybe not. I can wait. It can't be forced, yes?"

"Yes," Rose agreed. " _Si_."

He grinned. " _Si_." He held up one of her dresses. "What's this?"

" _Vestito_ ," she answered.

"Good. _Bene_." He hung up a pair of pants. "And these?"

" _Pantaloni._ Right?"

Fabrizo nodded. "Right. _Corretta_."

" _Corretta_ ," Rose repeated.

...

Finally, a lead. It wasn't much, just a sighting. Maybe. There was a chance it wasn't them. But that didn't stop Darrin from marching into Cal's office and annoucing, "We found her."

Cal looked at him hard. "You did?"

"Yes." Darri couldn't lose confidence now.

"Where is she? Is she still in New York?" Cal demanded. "Why aren't you off bringing her back?"

"She isn't in New York. They definitely left. She's—"

"I don't want to hear about it," Cal said, with a wave of his hand. "Just go get her."

"Right," Darrin said.

"And remember, don't lay a hand on her," Cal said. "I don't care what you do to him, but none of your men touches her."

"Right. I understand."

Cal leaned back in his chair, hands together under his chin. So, they found Rose. He smiled to himself. He'd known they would. There was nowhere she could go that he couldn't reach.

...

Rose sang in French while they planted the flowers. Jack followed along, mostly, but she could go faster than him. She knew the language better. It had been burned into her brain, year after year for over a decade. He suspected the songs weren't part of the curriculum, though. She was singing words he never expected her to know, much less sing.

"How vulgar," Jack said, clucking his tongue in disapproval. He grinned as he did it. "Where did you learn such songs?"

"At school," Rose replied. "My friend Anna had older brothers who liked to shout things at us, so we searched for something to shout back. She found a book of risque verses hidden in the library, and we translated them. Secretly, of course," she added. "And we didn't fully understand everything we were saying at first."

"You were a bad girl," he said, shaking his head. "I wouldn'tve believed it."

"I wasn't," she said. "I—"

"I'm only teasing, Flower. I like that you did those things. I wish I woulda been there to see it. I would've made them leave you alone, too."

"Wouldn't that have been something?" Rose said. "You and I, together as children? I wouldn't have been able to go anywhere near you, though," she said somberly.

"Sure you woulda. I'd find a way to get close to you," he said. "No matter where you were."

"Even if you were twelve?"

"Even then. I loved you the first time I saw you, Rose. Age wouldn't change that," he said.

"I could have run away with you a long time ago," she mused. "We could have gone to Europe together.

"We still can."

"How?" she asked.

"We'll find a way," Jack said. "We'll save our money for a while, and we'll go."

"What about this place?"

"We'll come back. We can travel and still have a home. I'd rather have it that way," he said.

"That's quite a change from the Jack I met a few months ago."

"A bad change?"

"No," Rose said. "Not at all."

...

If anyone but Jack had come in they would have thought Rose and Fabrizo were crazy. They carried on conversations in two languages. She spoke Italian, and he spoke French. Occasionally, when they couldn't find the right word, they switched back to English.

"Do you miss your family?" Rose asked.

"Yes," he answered. "I miss them very much."

"Do you wish you'd stayed in Italy?"

"No," he said firmly. "I'm glad I left. There was no future for me there. My life, it would have been the same as my father's; I didn't want that."

"I understand," Rose said.

"Do you miss your family?"

"There isn't much to miss. My father and I weren't close. We barely spoke. When he died..." She sighed.

"It was sad?"

"No," she said. "Not the way it should have been. And my mother, she and I aren't much better."

"I'm sorry, Rosa. I didn't mean to upset you."

"You didn't," she said. "I've accepted the way things are. My mother thought I was lucky to marry Cal. She called him the best thing that ever happened to me. How can I miss someone like that?"

"I don't know," Fabrizo said. "My parents wanted me to marry a girl from the village. Dorotea. They had everything arranged with her family."

"What did she think about it?"

"I don't know," he answered. "I never asked her. I ran away with Jack instead."

Rose laughed merrily. "We both ran away with him." At that moment Jack walked into the kitchen. Rose laughed even harder, and Fabrizo joined in.

"What did I do?" Jack asked.

"Nothing," Rose said, wiping tears from her eyes. She pulled him down by his shirt. "Except be you," she said, kissing him.

"You know what she's talking about, Fabrizo?"

"Leave it alone, Jack," Fabrizo replied.

"I don't know if I like you two having so much fun without me," Jack said, feigning indignation. "Every time I leave you alone, you have a better time than before."

"Oh sit down," Rose said, kissing him again. Her eyes shone. He was careful now to keep his tone light, his jokes clear, to make sure she didn't mistake anything he said for anger or disapproval. The incident had been a few weeks ago, but it was still fresh in his ming. She still had nightmares sometimes. He was usually able to calm her down without waking her. When he had to wake her up she didn't seem to remember her dreams. But she clung to him, in spite of the heat.

"So, I heard there's gonna be a picnic this Saturday," Jack said.

"From who?" Rose asked.

"Billy McCullough. He came over to tell us."

"Really?" Rose sounded surprised. "That was nice of him. I wouldn't have expected that."

Fabrizo wanted to ask who this person was, but he sensed he shouldn't. Jack had only tome him the barest details about his life in Chippewa Falls. None of those stories included Lucy.

"Are we going?" Fabrizo asked. "It sounds like fun."

"Do you want to, Rose?" Jack asked.

"I've never been to a picnic," she replied.

"What?" Fabrizo said. "Everyone's been on a picnic."

Rose shook her head. "Not me. Eating on the ground? My mother would have died before allowing me to do something like that."

"We gotta fix this," Jack said. "We have to go."

"Why? Is it really so different from eating lunch inside?" she asked.

"It's better," Jack said.

"Yes," Fabrizo agreed.

"Let's go then," Rose said. She didn't tell them the prospect of being on display for most, if not the whole, town made her nervous. Everyone had been friendly enough, aside from Lucy, but Rose knew they talked. She was an outsider. They wondered who she was, where she came from, why she was with Jack. Their unasked questions crowded around her until she couldn't breathe. It wouldn't have been any better if they had asked them. She had no anaswers to give, at least, no truthful ones. Telling them she was from Philadelphia felt like too much. Even now she expected Cal or one of his emissaries to arrive at any moment. Or wore, she expected to wake up and discover it had all been a long, lovely dream.

...

"Jack?" Rose spoke into the darkness. He lay still next to her, his arm curled around her hips. His cheek rested against her shoulder.

"Mmhmm?" He barely opened his mouth.

"Jack," she said again, louder.

His voice was thick with sleep. "What's wrong?"

"I can't sleep," she said.

Jack rubbed his eyes. "Why not?"

"I don't know. I can't stop thinking. I have this bad feeling, as if something terrible is going to happen."

"Nothing's gonna happen, Rose," he said. "Everything's fine." He moved closder, putting his other arm around her. "You shouldn't worry," he went on.

"This feeling came out of nowhere," she said. "I was perfectly calm earlier."

"I thought you were. You seemed happy."

"I was," Rose said. "I've been very happy. The fears are still there, but I can deal with them better now."

"You still think he'll find us?" Jack asked.

"Yes."

"That won't happen. We're safe here. How could he ever trace us? No-one knows who you are. No-oe but Fabrizo knew where we were going when we left. No-one knows anything about me. I'm a mystery. There's not even a record of me being on the ship. The ticket wasn't in my name, remember? For all he knows, I'm really Steven Smith."

Rose's mouth turned up in a half-smile. "That is a horrible name. Don't use it as your alias," she said.

"I'll be Jacques then," he said, affecting a French accent. "Renowned French painter."

She giggled. "And who will I be?"

Jack continued in the accent. "You will be Nathalie Renaud, my lovely muse and mistress."

"Just your mistress? Is that all I am to you?" She sighed dramatically and put a hand to her forehead. "You'll probably leave me for a younger woman, someone with money, whom you can marry. She won't care about your work, though. You'll miss me, Jacques, but I won't take you back."

" _Non, non_ ," he said. "Nathalie, I will never leave you. You are the inspiration. Everything I paint is for you."

"So, I'm not even a woman to you?" Rose dissolved in a fit of giggles. "What are we doing?"

"I think we're playing," Jack said. "You can't tell me you've never done that."

"I've played. It was never like this, however."

He propped himself up on his elbow. "Feel any better?"

"Yes, actually, I do," Rose said. She smiled up at him. "Thank you."

He kissed her. "Always."

"I'm sorry I woke you up," she said.

"Don't be." He kissed her again. She put an arm around him. The kiss deepened.

"Jack," she whispered.

"Yes?"

"Can we go swimming again?"

"Sure," he said.

They ran through the night, holding hands. This time Rose wasn't afraid of the water. She dove in without hesitation. She came up gasping at the cold. How could the night be so hot but the lake be so cold? Jack swam toward her. "Don't go out too far," he warned.

"Why not?" She held her hands out to him.

"I'd hate to lose you," he said.

"Because of your work?"

Jack grinned. " _Oui_ ," he said in the accent. "Without you, Nathalie, _cherie,_ there is no work. Without the work, there is no Jacques."

"All you care about is your work," she said.

"I am an artiste. We're all the same."

"No," Rose said. She pulled him closer. "You aren't like that, Jack."

"Most of them are. Maybe it's cause I'm not a very good artist," he said.

"Don't ever say that. You aren't good, Jack. You're wonderful. You have a gift. Someday, other people will see it too."

"I hope so, but if they don't, I'll be alright. I don't need to be famous. I thought I did. I certainly wanted to be, before, but now, it's not important."

"You will be anyway," Rose predicted.

"Maybe. It doesn't matter," Jack said. "I've got you. I've got time to draw, a good place to sleep. Food. That's more than enough."

"I'm glad I fell in love with Jack and not Jacques."

The sheets were col against their bare skin when they settled back in bed. Rose lay against Jack, her arms over his. The bad feeling was gone. For the moment, anyway.

 **AN: Thanks for the reviews, everyone!**


	14. Chapter 14

The train finally came to its last stop. The crowded car was dusty, the air unbreathable. When Darrin stepped outside the sun burned him. Sean and Victor descended next, shielding their eyes with their hands. "So, this is the place?" Sean said. He looked around, unimpressed.

"Apparently," Darrin replied. "I hope so anyway."

"What now?" Victor asked.

"Let's have some breakfast and get cleaned up," Darrin suggested. "She isn't going anywhere."

…

They arrived at the picnic spot early. Only a handful of people were there. Rose was relieved to see the McCulloughs hadn't gotten there yet. Maybe they wouldn't come after all. Or maybe, and this was her real hope, Lucy wouldn't come. It was ridiculous, she knew, but she dreaded another encounter with her. Lucy's feelings were justified; Rose sympathized with her, but there was nothing she could do to change them, short of presenting Jack to her and leaving forever. That wasn't going to happen. She didn't want Lucy as an enemy, but she saw no other possibility for them if Lucy wasn't willing to let go.

"This is a nice spot," Fabrizo said. They had the shade of a large tree. They were close enough to see the lake glittering.

Jack set down their basket. "Let's eat here," he said.

Rose spread the blanket on the ground. "Shouldn't we wait until everyone arrives?" she asked.

"It's not formal," Jack said. "We can eat or leave whenever we choose."

"What's the point of all these people coming then?" she said. She sat down and tried to figure out how to keep her skirt arranged properly. Rose glanced at the other women to see what they were doing.

"Just to get together," Jack said. "Talk. See people. Sometimes, when it cools off, there's dancing."

"Really?" Fabrizo and Rose said in unison. They looked at each other and laughed. Jack watched them, amused but happy about their closeness. No matter how many jokes he made, he wasn't jealous. It even made him feel more secure, knowing Fabrizo cared so much about Rose. If Cal did find them-but no, that was crazy. He would never find them.

"Did you come to picnics like this often?" Rose asked.

"A few times every summer," Jack said. "Me and my parents. They liked the dancing best too." He smiled wistfully. He saw them so clearly in that moment; it was as if they were really there. What would it be like if they were? What would they say if he showed up, unannounced, with Rose and Fabrizo? Or with just Rose?

Rose squeezed his hand. "We don't have to talk about it."

"No, I want to," Jack said. "I want you guys to know more about what it was like back then."

"In my village we had picnics all the time," Fabrizo said. "On Saints days, not all of them, but the big ones, we had parties, dancing, after the Mass, of course."

"What are those?" Rose asked

"Holidays," he said. "Sort of. If you celebrated them all you'd never stop. I don't know how many saints there are, but I know there's a lot."

"He took me to some of those," Jack said. "You'd like 'em."

"It sounds like a side of Italy I didn't get to see," Rose said. "It's somewhat different from the museums and ruins and elegant drawing rooms I did see while I was there."

"Those aren't so bad," Fabrizo said. "But, we go back, and I will show you the real Italy."

"I'll show you the stuff he misses," Jack said.

"I'd enjoy that," Rose said. "A tour from both of you sounds perfect."

She felt Lucy's gaze before she saw her. Rose turned, and there she was, talking to another woman but glowering at her. The McCullough brothers were busy setting up their area. They brought three baskets, two blankets, and what looked to Rose like a violin case. For dancing, she realized. There would have to be music.

Tom smiled and waved. Jack waved back. "Our neighbors," he explained to Fabrizo, who nodded.

"They can't be too close," Fabrizo said.

"About a mile away. That's as close as anyone's gonna get out here," Jack replied.

"You know everyone here, don't you?" Rose said.

"There's plenty of people here I don't recognize," Jack said. Before he could say anything else an older couple approached them. He wore freshly pressed trousers and a crisp, white shirt. He was clean shaven, except for a mustache, and his hair was steel grey. She wore a yellow summer dress. It was slightly out of date but clearly well-cared for. They regarded the three of them curiously, but their primary interest was in Jack.

"So, you finally came back," the man said gruffy, but not unkindly.

Rose and Fabrizo watched Jack, taking their cues from his reaction. "Yes, I came back, Mr. Edens," he said. H stood up and held out his hand. "It's good to see you again."

Clyde looked at him a moment before shaking his hand. "Always said you would, m'boy."

"Thank you," Jack replied.

"We heard you got married," Edna said.

"Yeah," Jack said proudly. Rose stood next to him; Fabrizo followed. "I'd like you to meet my wife, Rose."

Rose smiled. "It's a pleasure to meet you."

"This can't be your wife," Clyde said. "You couldn't have married a girl this lovely. She must be with your friend here."

"No, she's with me," Jack said. "And this is Fabrizo."

"That's an interesting name," Edna said. "Where are you from?"

"Sicily," Fabrizo answered. "In Italy."

"Really?" Edna said, intrigued. "What brought you all the way out here?"

"Jack and I came to America together," Fabrizo explained. "He's my closest friend here, so when he and Rose decided to come back, I came along. It's better here than in the cities."

"Quite right," Clyde said. "You made a wise choice."

"Are you married as well?" Edna asked.

"No, ma'am," Fabrizo said. "Not yet."

"A nice young man like you should be married," Edna said.

"I'm working on it," Fabrizo replied cheerfully.

"Now Edna, don't scold the boy," Clyde said. "And don't go playing matchmaker either."

"Men don't understand a thing," Edna said to Rose in a confidential tone. Rose just smiled in response, pleased to be accepted by this woman. They were fellow women, wives, and as such, they shared a common perspective. They understood one another.

After more talk, all light, the Edens moved on. "They seem like nice people," Rose said. "They certainly like you, Jack."

"They were friends with my parents," Jack said. His blue eyes were thoughtful. "Well, should we eat?"

…..

Picnics, Rose concluded, were indeed wonderful. As the afternoon went on more people stopped to talk. They all commented on Jack's sudden arrival in town; his responses remained polite if somewhat vague. Some made no secret of their curiosity, openly staring at Rose and Fabrizo, as if their faces could reveal secrets. Rose spoke little. She was afraid of slipping up and saying the wrong thing. Fabrizo charmed nearly everyone, though a few of them were put off by his accent. If he noticed he didn't let on. Rose wondered what it was like to be him, to be surrounded by people whose looks, customs, and even way of speaking were completely unlike her own. It must be incredibly difficult. She didn't stop to consider that her situation was rather similar.

The sun began to set. Torches were lit and planted in the ground. Rose watched, fascinated, as instruments were taken out of cased and a band assembled. A space was cleared for dancing. Couple formed, and people stood up to watch.

"Do you want to dance?" Jack asked.

"I'd love to," Rose said.

It wasn't a proper dance floor, or even really a floor at all, but that didn't matter. Jack led her to the center as the first song began. He put his arm around her, his hand on her back. This time he didn't have to pull her closer; she did that on her own.

"I don't know the steps," Rose said.

"Neither do I."

But he did, as far as she could see. Jack knew how to move with the beat; he knew how to lead her around the grass floor so that she felt like she was flying. Nothing else mattered. Nothing else existed. It was just the two of them, the cool summer night, and the music.

"Do you want to dance?"Lucy looked up, surprised by the question. Fabrizo leaned over her, a friendly smile on his mouth. He held out his hand. She stared at it, momentarily unsure what to do. "It doesn't mean anything," he said. "I just thought I'd ask."

"Why?" she said.

"You're alone here."

"Maybe I want to be alone," she replied.

"And you're pretty," he said, not flinching at her sharp tone. "All the other girls already have partners."

"I guess they do." She saw Jack and Rose in the crowd, so happy, so oblivious. "Alright," she said. "Let's dance."

"Yeah?"

"Why not?" Lucy took his hand. "It might even be fun."

Fabrizo was handsome, even in the dim light. His accent intrigued her. He was Jack's friend; that was all she knew. She found herself wanting to know more.

They moved out onto the floor with the other couples. He kept her at arm's length, which was surprising to her. "Can I put my hand there?" he asked, as he placed a hand on her waist.

"I think you have to if we're going to dance," she said. "But yes, you can."

"It's only polite to ask," Fabrizo said good-naturedly.

"You speak English well."

"Thank you. It's been getting better," he said.

"How long have you been in America?"

"A few months."

"Why'd you come?" she asked.

"I wanted to see what it was like. I heard stories about America all my life, and Jack won us tickets," he said. "How could I say no?"

"He won tickets? You mean, he was in Europe with you?"

"In a poker game," he explained. "He bet all our money, everything we had. If we lost-" He clucked his tongue disapprovingly. "Who knows where we'd be now?"

"Probably back where you started," Lucy said drily.

Fabrizo chuckled. "Yes, probably."

"What do you think of his wife?"

Would the questions about her never cease? Maybe, someday, when the town's curiosity was finally satiated. It shouldn't be him who gave the answers, though. "Rose is a lovely woman," he said.

"I'm sure she is."

Fabrizo saw the dislike in her eyes. Why did this girl care about Rose? She didn't know her; she couldn't. And then it him him: Jack. She knew Jack, somehow, from another time, and she was jealous. "I don't want to talk about her," he said. "I'd rather talk about you."

Lucy smiled in spite of herself. "Really?"

"I'm dancing with you, aren't I?" he said.

The next time they passed Jack and Rose she didn't notice. Jack did, and he was glad to see them together.

…

"The whole town is supposed to be there," Darrin said. The three of them struggled through the dark woods.

"Couldn't we have brought a light?" Victor said irritably. Behind him, Sean tripped over a tree root. He fell, crying out, more from surprise than pain. "Really," Sean said, pulling himself up. "A light would have been nice."

"Do you want us to be seen?" Darrin asked. "Do you _want_ to fail?"

"Well, no," Sean said. "But-"

"But nothing," Darrin snapped. "These are just woods. Trees. They won't hurt you, and look, there's light up ahead. We're almost there."

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" Victor said. "Like you said, the whole town's gonna be there. We'll definitely be noticed."

"The crowd is why we won't be noticed," Darrin said, with exaggerated patience. "We're just going to find them in that crowd and follow them home."

"It still seems risky," Victor said.

"There's a reason neither of you are in charge," Darrin said. "Now, shut up. They'll hear us."

There she was. In the firelight her hair was even redder. Darrin smiled. At last, he'd found her.

…..

Rose was breathless when the dancing finally ended. The torches still burned, but the crowd had begun dispersing. She sat down on their blanket, suddenly tired. She took off her shoes. Her feet stretched, glad to be free. "Thank you," she said, as Jack passed her the bottle of lemonade. Amazingly, it was still cold. She drank greedily. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Jack watching. "It doesn't have to be beer," she said, with a laugh. He kissed her, and whatever was left of her legs melted. "We should go home," she said.

"We should," he agreed. He helped her to her feet. "Or we could go swimming."

"Now?" Rose looked around. "But there are people here."

"There's no-one on the other side of the lake, where we usually go," he pointed out.

Now that they weren't moving she was aware of how hot she was. Her dress clung to her, glued by sweat. "That's not a bad idea," she said. "It would certainly be easier than a proper bath."

Jack pulled her closer and kissed her again. His hands pressed against her back. He didn't seem to care about the dampness of her dress. She put her arms around his neck; they were safe in the dark. His hair was wet on the bottom. She breathed in the sharp scent of his skin. It wasn't bad; the joy of their dancing was in it. "Let's go," she said.

Meanwhile, across the clearing, Fabrizo and Lucy were saying their good-byes. "Thank you for the dances," Lucy said. "This was fun."

"Thank you, Luciella."

"Is that my name in Italian?"

"Yes," he said. "Do you mind if I call you that?"

"No." She kept her tone even, disguising just how much she liked it. He still held her hand. His grip was firm but gently. She heard her brothers behind them. The picnic supplies had been gathered, and they were waiting to leave. She wondered if they could see her.

"Lucy!" Tom called.

"I'm coming," she called back. To Fabrizo she said, "I have to go."

"I know. I can't walk with you, can I?" he asked.

"I'm not sure my brothers would like that." In fact, Lucy wasn't sure how _she_ felt about it or about him. In a few hours he had upset her entire life, and to make matters worse, he didn't seem to notice at all. She doubted she had the same effect on him. He just wanted a dance partner, and she was the only girl available.

"I understand. Could I see you again?" Fabrizo asked.

"Oh. I don't know. Maybe," she said. "I'm sure we'll run into each other again." He couldn't be serious. He was just being nice. "I really have to go," she said, freeing her hand. Before he could respond, she was gone.

…..

Rose stopped. "Did you hear something?"

"No," Jack said. He looked around. "There's nothing out there. Maybe it was a squirrel or something."

"Maybe. It sounded like footsteps," she said.

"Who else would be out here?"

"I don't know. I could be wrong," she said. "I heard something coming toward us, or I thought I did." Rose shivered, aware of her nude body for the first time. Jack put his arms around her. "We're alone," he said. "There's nothin to worry about, Honey-Rose."

She looked over her shoulder as they walked into the water. The trees rustled in the wind. There was no-one there, just like he said.

…

Cal stared at them, his face blank. It had been nearly five minutes since Darrin finished talking; since then, silence had reigned. Victor shifted from one foot to the other. Sean stared at the wall, counting grains in the wood. Darrin did his best to appear calm.

"So," Cal said quietly. The three of them stood at attention. "It wasn't her after all. You tried to bring her back before you made this discovery. It didn't occur to you to check the photographs I gave you." He picked up a paperweight, a large glass ball, and squeezed it. His arm twitched with the urge to throw it.

"That's basically what happened," Darrin said.

….

"Where are you off to so early?" Rose asked. Fabrizo was still combing his hair. His boots sparkled from a fresh polishing. He wasn't wearing work clothes.

"I can't tell you," he said. "I might ruin it if I talk about it."

"Oh really?"

"Si. I'll let you know how it goes, Rosa."

Jack came into the kitchen as the door closed behind Fabrizo. "Where's he goin?" he asked.

"He wouldn't say. He was afraid talking would ruin it," she answered. "He looked nice."

"You don't think he met a girl, do you?"

"That's exactly what I think," Rose said.

"He hasn't said anything about it if he did. It's been almost a week since the picnic. It had to have happened there," Jack said, pouring himself coffee.

"I didn't see who he danced with."

"I did," he said.

"Who?"

"Lucy."

"Just Lucy?" Rose said. "Really?"

Jack nodded. "All night."

"Well, that's interesting. Do you think she's who he's going to see?"

"Maybe," he said. "They definitely looked happy together."

"I'm glad. He needs to find a girl."

….

Fabrizo walked quickly. There was a chance Lucy didn't want to see him, but he didn't think about that. If she sent him away, fine, but there was no reason to discourage himself. Her brothers were outside. He hesitated, his confidence beginning to wane. What would they think about him? They wouldn't want some strange man spending time with their sister, especially not a foreigner like him. But then she came out. She was even prettier in the morning light. Fabrizo smoothed his hair and went forward.


	15. Chapter 15

Despite being planted late, the flowers were flourishing. The colors around the house were dazzling. Jack wished he had pastels or water colors—even regular crayons would do—so he could capture their beauty. His usual drawing pencils just wouldn't do it. They couldn't even come close. The vegetable garden was also awash with color as new things popped up every day. It was a fairly large plot; they were already eating out of it, and Rose insisted they were the best vegetables she had ever tasted.

"That's 'cause you helped grow them," Jack told her. "Everything tastes better when you make it yourself."

"That's true," Fabrizo said. "Which is why we have to make these noodles ourselves." He rolled out the dough.

"What are we making this time?" Rose asked eagerly.

"We're making gemelli," Fabrizo replied. "You too Jack, come help."

"He's trying to get us to do all the work," Jack said, ignoring Fabrizo. "He pretends this is about teaching us how to cook, but really it's so he gets to eat all this great food without having to make any of it."

"Well, I want to learn how to cook great food," Rose said with a shrug. "So, I don't mind." She moved her hands carefully, doing her best to imitate Fabrizo's movements. She had gotten better at noodle-making, but she still saw plenty of room for improvement.

"Are you ever gonna tell us?" Jack said.

"Tell you what?" Fabrizo said, keeping his gaze on the dough.

"About where you've been going every evening," Jack replied.

"Jack, don't bother him," Rose said. "He'll tell us when he wants us to know."

"Thank you, Rosa."

After a moment Rose said, "Who is she?"

"You too?" Fabrizo said. He sighed. "There's no-one. I just like going for walks. Alone. It's cooler in the evenings. I've seen you two do the same thing."

"Fine," Jack said. "We won't talk about it."

"Thank you," Fabrizo said. He wasn't just being secretive for the sake of being secretive; he didn't know what to tell them. He didn't know what was happening between him and Lucy. He liked her, but he wasn't sure she liked him. She accepted his invitations to walk in the evenings, but they remained far apart. Was it shyness, he wondered, or aversion?

"This smells wonderful," Rose said, stirring the sauce. "When can we eat?"

"Not for a few more hours," Fabrizo answered.

Dejectedly, she bit into a carrot. "I guess this will do," she said. "I don't remember eating this well in Italy."

"You didn't have carrots?" Jack teased.

"No, we didn't have anything that smelled like this," Rose said. "Honestly, we ate more French and American food than anything else. Cal didn't like Italian food."

This was the most she'd said about Cal in months. Jack glanced at her. She didn't seem upset; in fact, she looked happy. He took that as a good sign. He didn't particularly want to know more about Cal, but he was glad Rose was able to say his name without flinching.

"Good thing you got away from him," Fabrizo said. "A man like that is no good. French food is—" His nose wrinkled in disgust. Rose laughed. "I don't mind it," she said." "If I'd had someone like you cooking it with me, I might love it."

As they worked Jack's thoughts drifted. The garden wasn't big enough. It was feeding them just fine now, but there wouldn't be enough to get them through the winter. They'd discussed the coming winter briefly, but he knew something would have to be done soon. Why hadn't he insisted they talk about it more? Why hadn't he already started planning? With the sun shining every day, and the temperature still soaring, winter seemed so far away, but as Jack knew all too well, it would be there much quicker than they expected. It would descend upon them with its winds that sliced through them, turning everything to ice.

The wood supply was coming along nicely; _that_ , at least, he'd thought about, but what would they eat? What would they wear? Suddenly, his cotton shirt felt inadequate. Once fall set in it would be little more than a rag with buttons. He had a coat. They all had a coat, but he doubted they were heavy enough. He'd seen Rose's coat. It definitely wasn't heavy enough.

Hal-formed plans swirled in his head as they sat down to eat. "We, us, we need to talk," Jack said, his tone heavier than he intended.

Rose gave him a puzzled look. "What's wrong?" she asked.

"Nothing," Jack said. "I've just been thinking. We need to start planning for the winter, really planning for it."

"That's still far away, isn't it?" she said. "It hasn't even started getting cold yet."

"It hasn't, but it's not that far away," Jack replied. "Winter starts early up here. We've gotta figure out how we'll get through it."

"You make it sound so threatening," Fabrizo said.

"It is," Jack said. "When it starts snowing, that's pretty much it. We probably won't make it back to town until spring. We'll be stuck here for weeks—months. We hafta have everything we need before that happens." He looked from Fabrizo to Rose. "I'm not trying to make this sound worse than it is. We're not going to war." He laughed. "I just want us to be alright."

"Well, we have plenty of wood," Rose said slowly.

"Not enough," Jack said. "But we've made a good start."

"We need more food," Fabrizo said. "Things that will last."

"Yeah," Jack agreed. "Only, I don't know how to preserve any of what we have."

"It's pretty obvious I don't know how," Rose said, offering a laugh.

"I know how to preserve some things," Fabrizo said. "Not much, but I can get us started. We'll have plenty of pasta."

"That's a relief," Rose said.

"It's a start," Jack said. They would need so much more. The list in his head kept getting longer, and he doubted whether they could manage it. For the first time he questioned bringing them so far into the wilderness, away from everything. What would they do if one of them get sick? Or hurt? They needed a horse. Maybe two. A cow, for milk. They could make cheese and butter. Jack vaguely knew how butter was made, and Fabrizo knew something about making cheese. It wasn't completely impossible. But what would they feed these animals? It was far too late to grow anything. Being rooted, Jack realized, was more stressful than being rootless had ever been.

…

"I don't understand why you keep coming here," Lucy said. They walked along the edge of the lake. She kept her arms close to her body, half-afraid he would reach for her hand, and half-hoping he would.

Fabrizo kept his hands in his pockets. "Because I like you," he said matter-of-factly. "Do I need another reason?"

"Maybe. Why would you like _me_?" She kicked a rock out of her way, not caring if it scuffed her shoe.

"Why not?" he said. "You're interesting."

"I'm interesting?" Lucy laughed shortly. "I've never gone anywhere or done anything. There's nothing interesting about me."

"Sure there is. You might not see it, but I do. This whole place is new to me," he said. "It's nothing like where I'm from."

Her tone softened. "Tell me about what it's like there." She looked up at him. "Please?"

"Everyone talks like me, so this lovely accent, it's not so attractive, and you hardly ever hear English, unless you're in the city. Tourists don't really come to the villages. That's too much Italy for them," he said.

"What's your village like?"

"Small," Fabrizo said. "Everyone knows everyone else. They know your whole family's history, who married who, and why, and who betrayed who and what son was a disappointment, and what sister ran away, and which one became a nun, and if you missed mass that morning, and maybe even what you said to the priest during confession."

Lucy laughed, happily this time. "That sounds a lot like here."

"It's not so bad here."

"If you'd grown up here, you wouldn't think so," she said.

"Don't you like it here?" he asked.

"I used to," Lucy replied. "I never wanted to leave. I couldn't even imagine leaving; I saw no reason to. Everything I ever wanted was right here. But then…" She swallowed the words, refusing to let herself talk about Jack. So far, neither of them had brought him up, which she hoped meant Fabrizo didn't know about their past. She hated the thought of being pitied, especially by this kind, interesting-handsome, she grudging added—man. She didn't want this time they spent together, whatever it was, to be a gesture from someone who felt sorry for her; more importantly, and this she tried not to think about, she didn't want him assuming she was already taken.

"Things changed?" Fabrizo said.

"Yes," she said. "Things changed a lot, in ways I never expected."

"I understand," Fabrizo said. "They changed for me too. That's why I left. One morning, I woke up, and I couldn't get away fast enough."

That was how Jack felt, she thought, with a pang. One morning he had to go, and he couldn't wait, and there was no stopping him. Losing Jack, she'd realized, wasn't the worst part. The worst part was finding out he didn't love her the way she always thought he did, the way she loved him. He hadn't just gone off to deal with his grief and get some youthful restlessness out of his system; he'd gone off to live a whole other life, a life that didn't include her, and he'd found a woman who could make him happy, even if, as Lucy suspected, she wasn't good for much else. Why Jack loved Rose was a mystery. Why anyone loved delicate, doll-women was a mystery.

"Where did you go?" she asked.

"We left Italy," Fabrizo explained. "Eventually. We traveled around for a while, stopping along the way, until we got to France. I'd spent my whole life in the same little village. Just seeing the other side of the country was—" He searched for the right word in English.

"Incredible?" she offered.

"Yes. Incredible. Thank you." Fabrizo smiled, and Lucy smiled back, suddenly feeling warm all over. She moved a step closer to him. He pretended not to notice, correctly guessing she didn't want it commented on. "Leaving the country," he said. "That was something I never thought I'd do. I was so afraid but happy all at once. France was a whole other world."

"You're lucky," she said.

"You could travel," he pointed out. "Everyone should, I think."

Lucy shook her head. "No, I couldn't."

"That's what I thought," he said. "Sometimes you have to just go, not be afraid. Like Rosa, she—" Fabrizo stopped, shutting his mouth. What was he doing, bringing her up? He'd gotten too relaxed. Talking to Lucy was nice; he was starting to trust her. But he couldn't trust her with that.

"Like Rosa what?" Lucy said.

"Nothing. I got my cousins mixed up," he lied. "So, anyway, I was telling you about France."

…

"If it's too late to grow what we need for the winter," Rose said. "We'll have to go buy it, right?"

"Right," Jack said. He looked down at the list. "I don't know what we'll buy it with, though. There's no money coming in." He shook his head. "What was I thinking?"

"You were thinking we needed a place to go, and why not go somewhere familiar, where you own something so getting settled will be easier," she said. "And because we're all the way out here, finding us will be impossible. It was the right decision, Jack. I wouldn't have agreed to it if I didn't think so."

"We shoulda tried planting a bigger garden. I shoulda thought more about the future instead of focusing on whatever was going on right then. I know what winters are like here. I know how cold it gets and how fast. I let myself believe it would always be summer," Jack said, frowning. "Sure, I cut wood, but we can't eat that. At least we'll be warm while we decide whose shoes to eat first." He shook his head again. "And I brought you up here."

"Jack, this isn't like you," Rose said. "Don't talk that way. We'll get through this. We'll figure something out. Isn't that what you always say?" He didn't respond. "Isn't it?" she pressed. Finally, he said, "Yes."

"What we're facing now isn't any worse than what we've already faced," she said. "We've made it this far, and I'm certainly not going to give up now."

"You're right. I won't either. I'm sorry, Rose. It's a lot, you know? This is so much more than I ever had to deal with before. I—I don't want to fail."

"Jack, don't worry about that," she said. "I don't expect—You don't have to worry about failing." She kissed his forehead. "It's not up to you to take care of everything. I don't need you to conquer the world or have all the answers. We're figuring this out together."

"Why do I feel like I have to?"

"It may just be your nature," Rose said. "You take on so much. You care for us so deeply, and you can't stand not being able to make everything perfect. I love that about you. You aren't trying to control us; you just want to make things the best they can be." She brushed his hair back. "But sometimes, you have to share the burden." She took the list from his hand and read it quickly. "I have a coat," she said. "Why would I need another one?"

"It's not enough for the cold here," Jack said. "You'll need something heavier, trust me. You need heavier clothes. We all do. Me and Fabrizo have some things, but it's not enough. My clothes are in bad shape. We need bricks."

"Bricks?"

"To heat in the fire," he explained. "You wrap it in a piece of cloth and put it in your bed to warm it up."

"I've used something like that," she said. "I must admit, I didn't think about using a brick."

"I taught you something," Jack said, cracking a smile. "That one thing to be glad about."

"This list doesn't look terribly expensive," she said, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze. "Prices are another thing you've taught me about. We can use the money left over from my ring."

"That money's for an emergency," Jack said. "Or traveling, remember? If we use the rest now, what will we do if something happens?"

"Like what?"

"If the house burns down," he said. "Or if one of us gets sick, if we have to—" _If we have to run again_ , he almost said. "If we need it," he finished.

"If we have to leave," Rose said. "If he finds us, and we have to leave." She almost never worried about being found by Cal anymore. What clues were left for him to follow? Fabrizo was with them. When he left New York he left no trail, and neither had they. Unless Cal set men into every city and every small town in the country, he wouldn't find them. In the back of her mind, Rose almost believed he wasn't looking for them anymore. It was September; nearly six months had passed since she left. He had to be running out of stories by now. He had to be running out of patience as well.

"Exactly," Jack said. "I don't think that'll happen, but if it did, I don't want us going off with nothing again. I don't want to leave," he added. "We've made a home here. We won't give it up unless we have to. He's not gonna chase us away again."

"I have more jewelry," Rose reminded him. "We can sell it when we run out of money. I don't care about any of it. If we sell it, it can do some good for us. I know you don't like getting money that way. I understand, Jack, but it's like I said before, the money is coming from me. If we do this, you're letting me take care of things. We're sharing the burden."

"There's still a lotta money left," he said. "We don't have to sell anything else yet. You're right. You were right before. We have to share the responsibility. I know that. I can't do it all on my own, no matter how much I want to sometimes. We'll use that money. Only…."

"What?"

"We can't spend too much here," Jack said. "People'll notice. They'll wonder hoe we have so much cash."

"You're a notorious bank robber," she joked. "And I'm your accomplice. Haven't you heard? It's quite the story."

"I'm sure it is," he said, half-smiling. "Do you help with the robberies?"

"No, I don't," she said. "You're too old-fashioned for that, or you are in the version I heard."

"We could go back down to Chicago," he suggested. "Get some things there. It might be nice to do a little traveling while we can. Fabrizo can see more of the country."

"That sounds like a great idea," she said. "When will we go?"

Jack shrugged. "Whenever. The sooner the better, really. It'll be cold next month, especially at night. I want us to have everything before that happens."

"Let's start packing," Rose said.

…

Fabrizo couldn't believe what he was hearing. "Chicago?" he said. "We're going there…to shop?"

"Sort of," Jack said. "We're getting supplies. It's too risky to spend all that money here. People will talk. They'll wonder why Rose doesn't have a decent coat or winter clothes. We could make something up, but—"

"You'd rather not," Fabrizo said.

"I'd much rather not," Jack said. "Lying is too complicated. Any intelligent person can spot a lie if they just look hard enough."

"When are we going?"

"In a couple of days, if that's alright with you. Rose's upstairs packing now."

"What about food?" Fabrizo asked. "Are we getting that here?"

"Probably. That makes sense, doesn't it?"

"I guess," Fabrizo said. "I don't know how to live like an outlaw. This is very new to me."

"It's new for us too. I wish it didn't have to be this way, but we can't risk stories getting out. I know what the odds are, but I can't take the risk. I can't risk Rose."

"But what if something did get back to him?"

Jack would never say so to Rose, but part of him wanted a confrontation with Cal. He wanted the fear and sneaking around to end once and for all. He wanted to hear Cal say he wouldn't bother them again, he'd never hurt Rose again, and he was sorry he did. He wanted Cal to give her a divorce so he could marry her, officially, and the rest of the world would have to take them seriously. He wanted to know Cal could never claim any children they might have; he could never say Rose being his wife made them legally his. Jack didn't know why he would do that, unless it was to hurt the two of them, or as a way to control Rose.

"I don't know," Jack said. He didn't know, as much as he might want a confrontation.

There was a knowing look in Fabrizo's eyes. "Don't you?"

"I can't think that way," Jack said. "Not when I know what it would do to Rose if he found us. She's finally stopped being afraid. She feels _safe_ now. I can't take that away from her. I can't hope something happens." He paused. "And what if I'm wrong?"

"I don't think you are," Fabrizo said. "If he comes, he'll be alone. I've seen enough jealous husbands. Eventually, they come alone."

"He doesn't scare me," Jack said. "Not on his own. I can take him. I'm sure I can. He's a bully. He hurts women. He sends other people to fight for him and throws money around, like that makes him strong. He only goes after people who can't fight back. I can. I wqill."

"I hope you don't have to," Fabrizo said. "Even if you win, it might make things worse. The way things are now, it's not so bad."

"No, it's not," Jack agreed. "But it could be better."


	16. Chapter 16

Rose was half-right. Cal wasn't running out of patience; he ran out months ago, and now he was putting most of his energy into maintaining an even disposition. When they could no longer say Rose was ill he and Ruth began claiming she was at the country estate, recovering. They described her illness in vague terms, never putting a name to it. Once or twice Ruth hinted at a possible miscarriage, garnering sympathy and silencing questions in one stroke. Rose was thought of as an invalid among their friends, but Cal knew she had to be seen eventually. An ill, delicate wife was one thing, but a reclusive, invisible wife was quite another.

The problem, of course, was he simply had no idea where to find her. That had been the problem since they left New York. He sent Darrin and his men into the countryside, searching for clues, but nothing turned up. They checked ships leaving New York and Boston, trains bound for the West, ships leaving California, all with no results. Jack and Rose had vanished; finding them became more unlikely with each passing day.

Cal knew what he had to do. He avoided it as long as he could. Darrin kept pressing him to do it. "We won't ever find her otherwise," he said. "Is that what you want?" Months of dead-ends had left Darrin frustrated but more committed than ever. It was no longer about getting the job done or collecting his money; it was about winning.

"I know we have to do it," Cal said. "Start slowly. Be as discreet as you can. Don't use her name at first. A photograph is enough. Stay out of the major newspapers. I want to keep this quiet as long as I can."

"Right," Darrin said. "I'll get started."

…

They didn't take much with them; the trip wouldn't be long, and no-one wanted to carry more than they had to. They caught a ride to the train depot. As they bumped along in the bed of a wagon, Rose grinned and held Jack's hand. She knew she'd be sore by the end of the trip, but she didn't care. Her hand wasn't as tan as Jack's; next to him she still looked like an indoor girl. Thanks to the salve he'd given her the blisters on her hands were healed. She didn't have callouses; her hands didn't compare to his at all, really, but they weren't quite as smooth as they once were.

"Whatcha thinking about?" Jack asked.

"I'm not really thinking," Rose said. "I'm just happy."

He smiled. "Me too."

"This trip won't be like the last one," she said. "We'll actually see the city a little."

"Yes, we will," Fabrizo said, startling them both. They'd all but forgotten he was there. "Or I'll go without you," he added genially.

"There's no need for that," Jack said. "I want to explore too. When we went to sell the ring, that was my first time in Chicago. I kinda wished we'd stayed longer."

"Why didn't you say anything?" Rose asked.

"I figured we shouldn't be out in such a crowded place," Jack replied. "You never know who might see us."

"I don't think we have to worry about that anymore," Rose said. "He doesn't have people waiting in every city." She said it, but she didn't quite believe it. Maybe that's what Cal was waiting for; maybe the moment they let their guard down, there he would be.

…

They paid for sleeper compartments on the train, much to Fabrizo's delight. "I know you like to sleep sitting up, Jack," he said. "But I don't."

"I'm not picky," Jack shrugged.

"Neither am I," Rose said. "I'm glad to have a bed this time, though. There's no sense in lying about it." Fabrizo brought it up first, so she felt comfortable admitting it. She didn't worry it made her sound spoiled. "Even if the two of us can barely squeeze into it," she joked.

"We'll manage," Jack said. He put an arm around her and kissed her hair. "It's not the worst place we've slept."

This time there were no other passengers to watch. Jack settled for drawing from his imagination at first. He pressed himself into the corner, hiding the paper from view. Rose sat by the window reading. Fabrizo took out a deck of cards for a game of Solitaire. The quiet sounds of their activities became almost rhythmic. Jack liked it.

He let his mind wander, not consciously deciding what to draw. It came to him in pieces. First, there was the tree, a greet sweeping willow. Next, the water. He added a sprinkling of waterlilies. Then he started on her. Jack tried not to put Rose in every drawing, and most of the time, he didn't. The Rose Drawings were special. He drew her as she was, while she slept, while she sat basking in the sun, or eyes sparkling with pleasure, flushed from dancing or from him. Sometimes he drew her exactly as he saw her; other times, it was a sort of future version, a Rose with no fears at all, in a life they'd made. That's what he was drawing then.

Jack didn't intend to add himself, but his hand seemed to have a mind of its own. He frowned at his half-formed image. It wasn't right. It never was, not even when he used a mirror. He kept drawing, frowning more as he went. He didn't notice Rose move to the seat next to him. "It can't be that bad," she said. She looked at him, her book still open.

"Yeah, it can," he said, not unpleasantly.

"You're too hard on yourself, Jack."

"I try to keep things in perspective," he replied.

"May I see it?"

"When it's finished," he said. "I'm not ready to show it."

"Alright." Rose touched his cheek. "Don't frown so hard."

….

Fabrizo claimed the top bunk. "Why do you always get it?" Jack asked, half-seriously.

"I got there first."

Rose watched them with amusement. "Does it matter?"

"No," Fabrizo said as Jack said, "Yes." Rose raised an eyebrow. "I see," she said.

"Not really," Jack said. "It's not important."

"If you'd gotten here first, you wouldn't say that," Fabrizo taunted.

"You have to get down sometime," Jack replied.

"No, I don't," Fabrizo said gleefully. "I'm all ready for bed. Good-night, Rosa!"

"Good-night, Fabrizo," she said. To Jack she added, "Will you turn out the light?"

"Sure."

They changed quickly in the dark. Rose put Jack's shirt on over her nightgown. It wasn't revealing. She purposely chose the most matronly thing she owned, but having Fabrizo in the room changed everything. He wouldn't look at her, not like that. He'd never touch her. She wasn't worried about that possibility. Modesty had been drilled into her since she was a child; it was difficult to let go of those lessons. And Cal always worried someone was looking at her, even as he took pride in it. He never knew what he wanted.

Rose pushed all thoughts of him away as she climbed into bed. Jack gave her the space next to the wall. "So you won't fall out," he said. She didn't argue. She was too tired, and what was the point? Why not let him have his way if it made him happy? The bunk was only slightly bigger than the cat seat they'd slept on. They lay pressed together, Jack's arms around her, his chest against her back. She imagined she felt his heart beating, or maybe she really did feel it. It was hard to be sure.

"You alright?" Jack whispered.

"Fine."

He kissed the base of her jaw. "I kinda like this."

"Don't Jack," she said. "We aren't alone."

"I know." He chastely kissed her cheek. "Not starting anything. I promise, Rose."

"Good." Rose put her hands over his. "I love you, you know."

"I had some idea," he whispered back. "I love you too, Rose."

….

"Where are we going first?" Rose said eagerly. They stood outside the train station, holding their bags. The mid-morning traffic moved around them. "To get breakfast," Fabrizo said.

"We already ate," Jack replied. " _You_ slept through it."

"Wasn't my fault," Fabrizo grumbled.

"Don't right," Rose said. "We can get something to eat. It's not really a problem, is it?" She looked at Jack, who shook his head. "No, it's not," he said. "Pick a direction."

"This way," Fabrizo said, heading toward a large diner sign.

"We weren't really fighting," Jack said. "You don't hafta worry."

"I wasn't worried," Rose said.

"You sounded like you might be. That's just something we do. You know. You've heard us."

"I know," she said.

Jack put his hand under her chin gently. "You alright?"

"Jack, I'm fine. We should catch up with Fabrizo."

He studied her face for a moment. "Yeah," he said.

She took his head. "Come on."

…

Some of the paintings were spectacular. There was one Jack would gladly have spent the rest of the day gazing at. Others were good; they had potential, while a few were simply dreadful. It painted Jack to look at them.

"Isn't art—uh—subjective?" Fabrizo said. He hesitated. "Yes, that's the word."

"It was," Rose said. "And you're right. Every piece has something in it."

"I don't think so," Jack said.

"You don't?" Rose sounded surprised.

"Look at this one," he said pointing. "See how flat it is? The clumsy brush strokes?"

"Maybe that's intentional," Rose said.

"They painted badly on purpose?" Jack was unconvinced. "Why? It's not—"

"Pretty?" Fabrizo said.

"No, it's empty," Jack said. "Maybe bad isn't the right word. Unskilled."

"Superficial," Rose said. "It just stays on the surface, never showing us anything."

"Yeah," Jack said. "Exactly." He smiled, pleased she understood. "It's like what we were saying about that other one we liked. It showed us something."

"Let's try the sculptures," Fabrizo suggested.

"Yes, let's," Rose agreed.

"We have to get something done today," Jack reminded them. "We can see a few, not the whole wing."

"He acts like this wasn't his idea," Rose said in a loud whisper.

Fabrizo nodded. "You'd think he had to be dragged in here."

"We'll probably have to drag him out."

Jack crossed his arms in mock annoyance. "I hear you," he said.

"Heavens, no!" Rose gasped, putting a hand to her heart. Her voice echoed in the silent room. A security guard turned his stare on them. She giggled, holding the pose. "We'll get in trouble," Jack whispered loudly. He kissed her upturned palm.

"We're moving on," Fabrizo called out. "No need to worry."

The guard's expression didn't change as he shifted his gaze away from them. "That really made us look less suspicious," Jack said. He and Rose laughed. "Let's try not to get thrown out," he added.

"I've never been thrown out of anywhere," Rose said. "It would be a new experience."

"It's not a good one," Fabrizo said.

"No," Jack agreed.

"And you two have?" she said, intrigued. "Where were you?"

"Paris—" Fabrizo began.

"Nowhere," Jack said.

"Dublin—"

"Nowhere," Jack repeated, carefully pronouncing each letter.

"Liverpool," Fabrizo mouthed.

"I see you," Jack said. "Quit it."

"But I want to know," Rose said. "That's a side of your adventures I haven't heard about."

"Not here," Jack said.

"Later?"

"Maybe," he replied. "If we've got nothing better to talk about."

Jack was caught up in a sculpture when Fabrizo said, "He doesn't want you to know about this times."

"I noticed," Rose said.

"I shouldn'tve kept going with it. We didn't do anything wrong," he assured her. "Just drank too much and got loud. Disturbing people, you know?"

"I understand." After a moment she said, "I don't think less of him for it. I don't expect him to be perfect."

"He wants to be perfect for you," Fabrizo said. Rose gazed at Jack, letting her eyes move across him. He was so beautiful. Feeling her stare, he turned his head and grinned. Rose smiled back, her heart fluttering as if it were the first time.

…

Fabrizo knew she wasn't Lucy, but he couldn't help watching her anyway. She looked so much like her. He tried to imagine her there, in the crowded coffee shop, but he couldn't. She refused to leave the path by the lake. What was she doing now? It was past lunchtime, or for her it was. Wednesday was the day she did the washing. He smiled, imagining her in the lake. She didn't wash clothes there, but that didn't matter. He liked the image.

Jack's voice broke through his musings. "What?" Fabrizo said. He looked around, not sure where he was anymore.

"I said, we'll get a few more things after lunch." Jack tilted his head. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," Fabrizo said. "Why would you say that?"

"You seem…not all here," Jack said.

"No, I'm here. See? What else do we need?"

Rose got out the list. "Coats," she read. "Clothes."

"Ah, new clothes," Fabrizo sighed. "That will be nice."

"To impress your girlfriend?" Jack teased.

"There is no girl," Fabrizo insisted.

"If you teach him, Jack, he'll never tell us," Rose said.

"Maybe I want new clothes because I've never had any," Fabrizo said. "Did you think of that?"

"Who said we're buying them new?" Jack replied. "More hand-me-downs for you, my friend."

Fabrizo groaned. "Just once."

"You've never had new clothes?" Rose said. "Clothes that only you wore?"

Fabrizo shook his head. "No, Rosa. I always got my brother's old clothes or my cousin's."

"I got new clothes," Jack said. "I was an only child, though. There wasn't anyone to give me anything. I didn't get them often. I haven't had any in a long time."

Rose didn't know what to say. She thought of the closetsful of clothes sewn especially for her, all left behind without a second thought. How much had it all cost? It was a question she'd never had to ask. She almost never handled cash. Everything was paid for by someone else. At most, she was given letters of credit or checks with someone else's signature already on them. Cal always left the amount blank. She could write in anything she wanted. She could take the money and—and what? Run away? Rose had stared at one such blank check for a long time before finally putting it away in her purse.

Mentally, she calculated how much money they still had. It was more than enough for the rest of the list, even with brand new clothes for all of them. But Jack didn't want to spend it all; he'd made that clear. She agreed with his restraint, but maybe they didn't have to deny themselves completely. Rose touched the cold stone of the ring in her purse, reassuring herself it was still there.

….

Most of what they bought that afternoon was shipped home. They would pick it up at the depot before going back out. How they would get everything the few miles out of town was a problem Jack decided to solve when they came to it. They needed horses, after all. What better reason to buy some?

"If we try, we can finish up in the morning and head back tomorrow night," Jack said.

"Why the hurry?" Fabrizo asked.

"I just think we should get back," Jack replied.

"Are you worried?" Rose asked.

"No." He gave her a grin. "They won't hold all our stuff at the depot forever, though."

"You're probably right," she said.

"Let's see more of the city if we're leaving so soon," Fabrizo suggested. "The art museum was fun—"

"So we should find another one," Jack said.

"Or we could find a party," Fabrizo countered. "Music. Dancing." He looked at Rose for approval. "It could be fun," she said.

"Who're you gonna dance with, Fabrizo?" Jack said. "Your girl's not here."

"There is no girl," Fabrizo said.

"Sure there isn't," Rose said.

"Rosa, I didn't think you'd join him."

"I'm on your side about the party," she said. "What do you say, Jack?"

"Guess I'm outnumbered," he said.

…..

The dance hall looked a bit rougher than Jack would have liked. Rose and Fabrizo, however, didn't seem to notice. They joined the revelry, not caring they knew no-one else there. Fabrizo went off in search of a girl to dance with. Jack found drinks. "Here you are," he said, handing Rose a tall glass of beer.

"Do I get to show you how to drink again?" she teased.

The air was thick and hot. Beads of sweat dotted their necks even before they started dancing. Rose's hair was damp around the edges. Jack rolled up his sleeves. The music was so loud they had to yell to hear each other. They weren't talking much, though; they didn't need to. Jack held her close as they moved with the music. Their eyes stayed together; their bodies moved seamlessly. Rose's training had made her a good dancer, but this was different. This wasn't remembering steps and going where her partner led; this was moving with her partner in steps they made up as they went along. Impulsively, she leaned up and kissed him.

"Why'd you do that?" he asked. Rose just smiled and shrugged.

Finally, the band played a slow song. They leaned into each other, glad for the rest, but not wanting to stop the dance just yet. Rose laid her head on Jack's shoulder. His arms encircled her. She closed her eyes. The smell of him was indelibly imprinted on her memory. Even in the crush of bodies, she could pick him out.

…

Jack twirled her at the top of the stairs. Rose laughed. "Jack, no," she pleaded, gasping for breath. The room was already spinning from her attempt to out-drink him.

"Ssshh," he said loudly. "We'll wake everyone up."

"Oh, will we?" she laughed.

"Yeah."

"Jack, you're yelling," she said in a stage whisper.

"Am I?"

Rose nodded. "Quiet," she said, holding her hand up to his face. She closed it slowly. This simple gesture sent him into a fit of giggles. "What was that?" he asked.

"I don't know. I've never done it before."

It took several tries to get their room unlocked. They left the light off. Discarding clothes as they went, they struggled to the bed, finally collapsing onto it. The springs protested shrilly, and they dissolved into laughter again. Rose put her finger to his mouth. "Sssh."

Jack kissed her hand.

"I had fun today," she said.

"Me too."

They curled into each other like kittens, exhaustion overtaking them. "Jack?" she murmured.

"Uh-hmm?"

And they were asleep.

…..

Rose left the note in plain view. With any luck, she thought, he'd still be asleep when she returned. Getting up early wasn't easy. Her head hurt; her eyes burned from the light. She almost abandoned her plan, but the thought of seeing them surprised spurred her on. Jack wouldn't like her selling another ring, but he'd understand why she did it, and there was still plenty more jewelry to sell, if they had to. Besides, she wouldn't spend all the money in one morning.

Jack was sound asleep when she slipped out. A gust of air came in through the door, sending the note to the floor behind the desk.


	17. Chapter 17

The man regarded Rose with watery grey eyes. The ring lay on the counter; its stone winked in the light. "$400," he said.

"No." Her voice was cool.

"That's as high as I can go. It's not worth even that much, miss."

Rose kept her eyes on his, her mother's probing stare taking over her features. The resemblance between them in that moment was striking. "I know exactly how much it's worth," she said.

"Sure you do," he said sarcastically. "Pretty girl like you probably knows all about the jewelry market."

"Don't patronize me. Give me what it's worth, or I'll take it elsewhere." Jack had done the negotiating when they sold her engagement ring. They had only gotten a fraction of its value, but she knew it was as fair of a deal as they would get. The buyer tried to talk Jack into taking less, but he hadn't looked at him like this. At least Jack had been given credit for knowing what he was doing.

"$450," he offered.

Rose's eyes hardened. "No, thank you." She reached out to take the ring. He put out his hand to stop her. "Fine," he said. "$500."

"That's not enough," she said. "No deal, sire. Thank you."

He eyed the ring. It was worth at least $5,000, maybe more with the right buyer. Pieces like this didn't land on his counter every day. He pegged this woman as desperate, naïve, maybe fleeing a husband, but she didn't do any of the things he'd come to expect from women like that. Her back was straight; her hands were still. She showed no signs of crying recently.

Rose picked up the ring. "I'll just be going."

"Wait. Let's see if we can't agree."

….

The knocking woke Fabrizo. Really, it was more like pounding. He rubbed sleep from his eyes. "What is it?" he called, moving slowly toward the door.

"Fabrizo, you awake?" Jack yelled.

"I am now," Fabrizo grumbled as he opened the door. "What?" He stepped back as Jack charged in. His eyes darted around the room. "Rose isn't with you?" Jack said.

"No." Fabrizo gave him a confused look. "Why would she be with me this early?" He rubbed his eyes again.

"I woke up, and she was gone," Jack said.

"Gone?"

"Yeah. Her shoes and bag are gone. She got dressed, and she's…I don't know where she went," Jack said. "She didn't leave a note or anything. I don't know where to look if she's not with you." Questions crowded his mind. Did she go out for air or a walk? Had something happened to her? Had _he_ finally found her? That was crazy. Or was it? Why didn't she wake him up? Did she intend to not come back? But if that was the case, why did she leave her things?

Fabrizo had never seen Jack so worried. "Let's go look for her," he suggested. "She's probably outside. We'll find her in no time." He too wondered why Rose would disappear this way. It wasn't like her. She wouldn't leave Jack worrying, especially with the threat of Cal still hanging over their heads. She knew the risks. This wasn't Chippewa Falls; this was Chicago, anyone could spot her, even in this neighborhood.

…..

Rose couldn't believe her success. She held her purse in an iron grip, resisting the urge to reach in and touch the money. $2,5000. Well, more like $2,3000 now, but it was still more cash than she'd ever handled. This money was _hers_. She laughed, exhilarated by her sudden wealth. It was an unfortunate fact, but money was freedom. They could do so much with this money.

Most of her purchases had been sent ahead to await their return. She shopped quickly, not letting herself think about whether they needed something. For the first time, Rose was buying what she wanted, simply because she wanted to; there was no-one to please. She bought easels for Jack, oil paints, water colors, art books with as many photographs as she could find, and clothes. He said he had enough already, but she disagreed. She chose thick, colorful shirts he would stay warm in. For Fabrizo she bought new pots and pans, baking supplies, knives, anything he needed to create complicated, scrumptious meals with. He also got new clothes and recipe books. A French language dictionary.

Rose carried a book for each for them under her arm. She walked quickly, glancing at the sky. Rain threatened to fall any minute, and she worried she'd been gone too long. What if Jack were awake already? He'd be worried. No, she'd left a note. He would know she was fine.

Rose turned one corner just as they turned the other; they missed each other by seconds. The door wasn't locked, but the room was empty. Her heart skipped a beat. Where was he?

….

"Where is she?" Jack asked no-one in particular. "Where would she go?"

Fabrizo wanted to reassure him but didn't know what to say. "I'm sure she's fine," he offered. Jack didn't believe that, and he knew it. He was starting to worry also. Rose was smart, but she was sheltered, despite her experiences as Cal's wife. The neighborhood wasn't bad, but it wasn't good either. A woman like Rose caught the eye. Fabrizo knew Jack was thinking that as well. His blue eyes darted around, hoping for a sign of her.

"We'll find her," Fabrizo said.

"You don't think she…" Jack let out a breath. "He wouldn't be here."

"No," Fabrizo said. "She probably went for a walk."

"Yeah."

….

Rose leapt to her feet as the door opened. "Jack?" She twisted her hands together nervously. They looked at each other. His eyes flashed with relief and something else. Was it anger? Rose's heart beat faster.

"Rose?" Jack crossed the room in two steps. His arms were around her before she could react. He crushed her against him. "Rose," he said again. "There you are. Where were you?" He took her face in his hands. "Why didn't you wake me up?" he demanded, his voice louder than he realized. His relief at finding her safe overwhelmed him. "Why did you disappear like that?"

"I—" Rose couldn't speak. The harshness in his tone tied a knot in the pit of her stomach. Familiar panic set in. She tried to breathe slowly, but her body wouldn't listen.

The tension in Jack's shoulders eased. "I'm not mad, Rose," he said gently. He relaxed his arms "It's alright." He kissed her forehead.

Her lips moved but no sounds came out. Dimly, she was aware of her body trembling. She didn't want to be afraid; she couldn't stop it. Her mind knew it was Jack and knew he wouldn't hurt her; he was just upset. But she couldn't quite believe it, no matter how hard she tried.

"Rose, I'm sorry," he was saying. He kissed her, hugging her to him. His lips pressed against her cheek. "I didn't mean to scare you. I thought…" Jack couldn't say it.

"I left you a note," Rose whispered.

"You did? Where?"

"On the desk," she said.

"I never saw anything."

Fabrizo went over to the desk. He bent down and peered behind it. He could barely make out the shape of a piece of paper. "It fell behind it," he said. "It's stuck between the wall and the desk."

"I should have put it somewhere else," Rose said.

"I shoulda looked harder," Jack said. "You weren't here, and I just—I panicked. I couldn't figure out where you'd go."

"I wanted to surprise you," she said. "That's why I didn't wake you up. I thought I could get back before you found out I was gone."

"Surprise me with what/" he asked.

"It was for both of you," she explained. "I wanted to do something for you. You've both done so much for me. I thought I should repay you a little. Not that I ever really can, and I know it's only…" Her throat hurt from the lump in it.

"Where'd you go?" Jack asked.

"I know you didn't think we needed to, but I sold one of my rings—"

"Rose, why would you do that?" he said.

"Because, Jack," she replied. "I wanted to make sure we had enough money. I know how ou worry about it."

"I can handle it," Jack said.

"And also I wanted to get you a few things," Rose said. "Both of you." He didn't want to let go as she stepped away. She picked up the books. "There's more," she explained. "I sent it ahead." Silently they each took a book from her.

Fabrizo read the cover. _The Art of French Cooking._ He smiled and flipped through the pages. It was a thick book with a smooth dust jacket. He met Rose's eyes. "Thank you, Rosa," he said in French. She smiled timidly in response.

Jack sat down, his book open across his knees. He turned the pages reverently. The paper was thick and glossy; just touching it was nice. He looked up at Rose. "You got this for me?" She nodded. "Why?" he asked.

"I thought you'd like it," Rose said.

Emotions swirled within him. "I love it," Jack said. "It's great. It's incredible." He reached out for her hand. She moved toward him. He pulled her down to where he sat. "Thank you," he said, kissing her. "You didn't hafta do this."

"I wanted to," she said. She picked up her purse. "There's money left over. It might be best if you hold on to it."

Jack quickly counted the contents of the envelope. He let out a low whistle. "How'd you get this much?"

"It wasn't easy," she answered. "I had to pretend to be my mother." She chuckled.

"How much is it?" Fabrizo asked.

"$2,300," Jack replied. Fabrizo added his own whistle of appreciation.

There was still unease in Rose's eyes. "You aren't angry?" she said, turning to Jack.

Jack shook his head. "Now, and even if I was—" He caressed her hand. "I'd never hurt you, Honey-Rose."

…..

The train sped through the night. Jack leaned against the railing. He wasn't supposed to be out there, but the door was unlocked, so he'd gone anyway. He took a drag on his cigarette. He hadn't smoked in a few months; he hadn't felt like it. Mostly, it was something to do with his hands, a social ritual. Men smoked, particularly with other men. Jack picked up the habit at some point. This was the first time he'd felt a need for it. His nerves were still rattled by the events of the morning.

He turned as Fabrizo stepped outside. Fabrizo gave the ground a skeptical look. He stayed against the door. "You alright, Jack?" he asked.

"I'm fine."

"That why you're out here, alone?" Fabrizo said.

"I needed some air."

"Rose went to sleep," Fabrizo said. "She tried to wait for you."

"I'll be in in a minute," Jack replied. He took a last drag off the cigarette before tossing it away.

"Are you mad at her?"

"What?" Jack said. "No, of course not. I was scared. Goddamn, I was scared." He shook his head. "I've never been that afraid, Fabrizo. I just knew she was…."

"She tried to do a nice thing," Fabrizo said. "She's a sweet girl."

"Yeah, she is. She's amazing. She shouldn'tve done that by herself, though. Anything coulda happened. Walking around with that much money's not safe. It's crazy how afraid she is but how fearless at the same time," Jack said.

"She was afraid for you for a minute."

Jack frowned; he stared into the inky sky. "I know. I can't stop thinking about it. That look in her eyes, like she thought I was gonna hit her."

"He would've," Fabrizo pointed out.

"I know. I saw what he did to her. Just thinking about it makes me sick." Jack remembered the bruises on Rose's arms, the way she winced when he touched her; he remembered seeing Cal's hand collide with her face, lunging forward to protect her. He failed that night. It was a miracle he wasn't killed. It was thanks to Rose he was alive. She drug him out of there, took care of him, and she thought she owed _him_ something? "She's never looked at me that way," Jack said. "It was different. She was terrified."

"I know."

"I thought she was doing so much better," Jack said.

"She is, but it's not-she can't ever be the way she was before," Fabrizo said.

"I wonder what she was like before him. I love her the way she is," Jack said. "But I wonder, you know?"

…..

Rose turned over when Jack got into bed. "There you are," she said sleepily. She nestled against him, eyes closed. He put both arms around her. He kissed her face. She breathed evenly, her sleep peaceful. The look in her eyes, that panic, haunted him. He wanted to hold her and tell her it was alright; she was safe; she would always be safe with him.

But under that, he wanted to hurt Cal for ever laying a hand on her. It overwhelmed him how much he wanted to see that look in _his_ eyes. Jack's hand twitched, fighting to urge to make a fist. If he ever saw him again…..

….

Darrin started slow, just like Cal said. A photo of Rose was sent to a few dozen small newspapers on the East Coast, along with a description and false background. It was a nice bit of writing that called her a "beloved wife" and pleaded for her safe return. There were few details about the circumstances of her disappearance, leaving the reader to draw their own conclusions. It wasn't a front page story; it wasn't the sort of thing anyone from her old life was likely to see. Which was fine because they weren't who it was intended for.

At the bottom was a telephone number, along with a $20,000 reward offer. If the change to see a young woman reunited with her family didn't prove enough incentive, money was sure to.

….

They got off the train a few stops down the tracks in a bigger town. People would find out they'd bought horses and a wagon, but Jack decided it was better they not know who they bought them from or how much they paid. He struck a good deal on the third try, walking away with a new wagon and two pretty bays. Rose fed them apples.

"They like you," Jack said.

"They probably like anyone who feeds them," she said.

"No, horses are good judges of people," Jack replied. He petted their necks. "They don't take to everyone. They know when something's wrong before you do. They're like dogs."

"Could we have one?"

"A dog?" he said, surprised.

"I've never had a dog," Rose explained.

"We could get one. My had had a couple of hunting dogs. I liked 'em."

"You liked what?" Fabruizo said, coming over to them.

"Dogs," Jack replied. "How do you feel about them?"

"They're alright." Fabrizo shrugged. "Why?"

"I asked if we could have one," Rose said.

"Fine with me," Fabrizo said amiably.

They drove back to the Chippewa Falls depot and collected their things before going home. Fabrizo dozed in the back. His head lay on a sack of flour. Rose sat up front next to Jack. "You wanna drive again?" he asked, offering her the reins.

"Sure," she said. Holding the reins loosely, she tried to remember what she'd done the last time. The horses moved at a steady trot. She felt their power even with the reins slack.

"You alright?" Jack said.

"I'm fine. Thank you."

"You're welcome," he said. Rose glanced at him and smiled. All the bad feelings from the day before were gone. She looked carefree and happy. Jack wanted her to always look that way.

…..

"You got me an easel?" Jack said.

"Was that wrong?" Rose said. They'd carried everything inside and were sorting through it. Fabrizo was putting away the food.

"It's great. I've never had one."

"I got you canvases and paint as well," she said. "They're here somewhere." She dug through a box and found the oils. "See? And there are watercolors. Some new pencils…" She trailed off when she saw his face. "Jack, what's wrong? Did I—"

"That's so sweet," he said. "That you'd do that for me."

"I know they're just things, but I wanted to do something for you and for Fabrizo."

"You didn't have to," he said.

"I have to thank you somehow, Jack."

"No Rose, you don't." Jack put a hand on her cheek. "You don't owe us anything. You definitely don't owe me anything."

"You've done so much for me. I might have fallen off the ship, or Cal would have…" She let the possibility hand there, unspoken. Neither of them needed to hear it.

"Are you still afraid of him?" he asked.

"I think I'll always be afraid of him," she said softly. "I don't want to be."

"Rose, about what happened. I didn't mean to scare you. I'm sorry." He moved his thumb across her cheek. "You were gone, and I panicked. I was afraid somehow he'd found us. I know it's crazy."

"I should have told you where I was going," she said. "But I wanted to surprise you so much. I wanted to show I could do something on my own."

"I know you can. You don't have to prove anything to me, Honey-Rose." He kissed her gently. Rose wrapped her arms around his neck, hugging him.

….

"Did you miss me?" Fabrizo asked playfully.

"Who said I knew you were gone?" Lucy replied. Her tone wasn't harsh. She gave a half-smile.

"Well, if it's that way I don't give you your present."

"What present?" she said.

He pulled a small bag from his pocket. "It isn't much, but I wanted to bring you back something."

Lucy opened the bag and found a necklace of deep pink, glass beads. "They're pretty," she said.

"You like them?"

"Yes. They're probably the prettiest thing I've ever had," she said.

"I thought the color would be nice on you," Fabrizo explained. "I don't know all the colors you like."

"I do like pink," Lucy said, holding the necklace out so he could put it on her. "Does it look alright?"

This was the closest they'd ever been. All her usual reserve was gone. Fabrizo hoped she didn't notice and put the wall back up. "It looks beautiful," he said. He wanted to kiss her but didn't. It was still too soon.


	18. Chapter 18

It was easy to forget the damage Rose's experiences had done to her emotionally. She didn't act afraid anymore; she didn't have nightmares; her injuries were long healed. But the effects of those months with Cal went deep, and in the days following the trip Jack found himself wondering if it wasn't worse than she let on. He didn't think about it too much, though. Mostly they were too busy for thinking. After they got the house in order and the horses settled in, Jack set up his art supplies in the back bedroom. It was small, but the light was excellent. Rose and Fabrizo worked on preserving as much food as they could.

One afternoon Jack slipped into the kitchen, grinning. "What's that look about?" Fabrizo asked.

"I thought you were painting," Rose said.

"I was." Jack kissed her. "I went out for a few hours. There was something I needed to do."

"What?" she asked.

"It's a surprise. Come outside."

Rose glanced at Fabrizo. "Did you know about this?"

He shook his head. "I don't know anything, and with Jack, it could _be_ anything."

"Just c'mon," Jack urged, taking Rose's hand. They followed him out to the barn. "It might seem crazy," he said. "But we needed one, and I just happened to find these two." He slowly opened the door, trying to build suspense. Rose's eyes widened when she saw the mother cow and calf. "This is what you were doing?" she said, stepping forward.

"Aren't you supposed to sell them for some magic beans?" Fabrizo said. "Isn't that what Jack does?"

Jack rolled his eyes. "They have that story in Italy now? And I already did that. It's why we're so incredibly wealthy. Haven't you noticed?"

"Can we put them?" Rose asked.

"Sure," Jack said. She reached out tentatively. "They won't bite, Rose," he added. "Nancy here's a sweet girl."

"I've never actually seen a cow," Rose said. She was surprised by how soft they were. "They're just for milk?"

"Yeah," Jack said. "I'm not worried about anything else right now."

"We can make cheese," Fabrizo said.

"Read my mind," Jack replied.

"Is this it?" Fabrizo said.

"Not quite."

"What do you mean?" Rose said. "What else is there?"

Jack flashed a grin as he stepped through the side door. A moment later he appeared carrying a cocker spaniel puppy. "This is the rest," he said, handing the dog to Rose. She took it, laughing in disbelief. "She's adorable. Is it a girl?"

"Yeah, she is actually," Jack said. "They didn't want to keep a girl, so they let me have her."

"That's a shame, but I'm glad we got her," Rose said. It was already clear the dog belonged only to Rose. She settled happily in Rose's arms and licked her face, prompting another laugh. "How did you manage all this, Jack?" she asked.

"I've been asking around on our trips to town," he said. "I heard about the puppies a couple weeks ago, right after you said you wanted one. It was just good luck I could get both in one day."

"Thank you," Rose said.

….

"Where're you going?" Tom asked.

"Nowhere. Just out for a walk," Lucy said nonchalantly.

"You go for a lot of walks," he said. "Who is he?"

"Who's who?" Lucy said.

"The guy you're going to see," Billy teased. "You can't fool us. You've never been this interested in nature."

"Maybe I just want to think," Lucy replied. "I do have thoughts, you know. Unlike some people."

"Don't get upset," Tom said. "If there's someone, you can tell us. It's good that you're interested in someone. We want you to be."

"You mean besides Jack, right?" Lucy said.

"Lucy—"

"No, it's fine," she said. "I drove you all crazy. Maybe I drove myself a little crazy."

"It hurt you when he left," Billy said, all teasing gone from his voice. "It makes sense you'd have trouble letting go. You were so young. You need to move on."

"I know," she said.

"You can bring him here," Tom offered.

"Unless you're ashamed of us," Billy joked.

"I'm not ashamed of you," Lucy said. She wasn't ashamed of Fabrizo either, though she worried his accent would upset her brothers. She'd never known them to be prejudiced, but a man many people in town considered a "foreigner", a man whom they distrusted for no reason, had also never courted their little sister.

….

"There you are," Fabrizo said. His eyes lit up, and he held out his hand. She took it without thinking. "I would've been here sooner, but my brothers kept questioning me," she said.

"About me?"

"Yes," she said. "They want to know about this mysterious fellow I've been sneaking off to see."

"What did you tell them?" he asked curiously.

"That I've been meeting a dark, handsome stranger from an exotic land, and he's promised to carry me off and feed me tiramisu, whatever that is."

"It's delicious is what it is," he said. "I'll make you some. So, I'm a dark, handsome stranger from an exotic land?"

"Who said I was talking about you?"

"Really Lucy, how do you think of me?" he asked.

Lucy avoided his gaze. "Do we have to have this conversation now? Things are fine the way they are. Why start analyzing it?"

"I know how I feel about you," Fabrizo said. "How I _could_ feel about you, if you'd let me."

"And how is that?" She didn't quite want an answer.

"I'll love you, if you let me," he said. "I'm not sure you can stop it, actually. You can just make it harder to express. You can tell me to leave."

Lucy didn't know if it was his words or the chill in the wind that raised the hair on her arms. "What if I'm not ready for that?"

"Ready to be loved, or ready to love me back?"

"Either. Both," she said.

"Then we'll wait," he said, shrugging.

They were walking toward home when she said, "Fabrizo, would you like to meet my brothers? Not tonight, but on Sunday, maybe? You could come to dinner."

"I'd love that."

…..

"Get it," Rose said playfully. She tugged on one end of a rag, while the puppy tugged on the other. "Come on. You can." The dog shook her head and growled softly. Rose laughed. "I'll let you have it." She let go of the rag, sending her sprawling backwards. The little dog gave Rose a confused look.

"I see you two are having fun," Jack said. He sat down on the floor next to Rose. "What are you gonna call her?"

"I don't know," Rose answered. "I've never named anything before. I want it to be right." The puppy offered her the rag. "You want to play?" she said. She tugged gently on her end. "We've playing now?" The dog pulled back in response.

"She really likes you," Jack said.

"She's a puppy. I'm sure she likes everyone."

"Dogs don't like everyone," he said. "And they don't always get attached to one person when there's a group. You're her person, Rose. She decided."

"Did you plan that somehow?" she joked.

"No." He didn't add it was what he'd hoped for when he brought the dog home. When he saw her, Jack knew she was supposed to be Rose's. "But she reminds me of you," he said.

"I remind you of a dog?"

"No, the dog, the adorable sweet little dog, reminds me of you," he explained. "There's a difference."

"Uh-huh," she said skeptically.

"No idea what you're gonna call her?" Jack said. The dog jumped into Rose's lap and licked her hand. "She looks like a Lady to me," he added.

"I think you're right. Lady it is."

...

Lady followed Rose everywhere. She had trouble with the stairs at first but soon conquered them. A basket with an old blanket was put by their bed, but she wouldn't stay in it. She insisted on sleeping next to Rose, much to Jack's amusement. "I might get jealous," he said. He lay on one side of her, Lady on the other, and together they formed a protective cocoon around Rose.

"You don't have to be jealous," Rose said. She twisted around and kissed him. "You're the only one for me."

"I'm glad you're happy, Rose."

"Why wouldn't I be?" she said. "This is the life I always wanted."

"You wanted to live in an old farmhouse miles from anywhere? With two men?" He grinned. "Well, Rose, I never woulda guessed."

"Jack, don't be silly. You know what I mean. We're comfortable. It's peaceful out here. I have people who love me, people I love, and we're not traveling, but our lives are still an adventure," she replied.

"Being with you is the best adventure I've been on," Jack said, kissing her. Lady climbed over Rose, attempting to get between them. "I'm not jealous, but someone is," he murmured. He put both arms around Rose. "I had her first."

"You can share."

"Fine." Jack sighed dramatically. "If I have to."

Rose kissed him. "Not completely."

…..

"If I have to meet with one more of these people, I'll lose my mind," Cal said.

"I take it things aren't going well?" Lovejoy said, a trace of amusement in his tone. This should have been his job. He was more than qualified to handle it. If _he'd_ been given control Rose would already be back, and the mess would be long over. But no, Cal decided to bring in someone from the outside, a "top" private detective, he claimed. "He'll be discreet," Cal had said. _As if I wouldn't be_ , Lovejoy thought angrily. How many times had he patched things up for the Hockley family, and for Cal in particular? And for what? To be replaced after years of work?

"Things are going fine," Darrin said, fixing Lovejoy with a cold stare. "It takes time. That's all."

"It certainly appears that way," Lovejoy replied.

"We're getting responses, but none of them come close," Cal said. "Maybe we aren't looking in the right places."

"You aren't," Lovejoy said.

"And where would _you_ look?" Darrin said.

Cal turned to him. "Yes, where would you look?"

Now they wanted his help. Of course. Lovejoy's voice was cold and full of contempt. "She isn't on the coast," he said. "She's nowhere near New York or Philadelphia. They aren't hiding in plain sight. He might be smart enough for that, but she'll be too afraid. He'll take her somewhere he thinks we wouldn't look."

"And that is?" Cal said.

"Have you looked into his background? Found out where he's from?" Lovejoy asked.

"It's not an uncommon name," Darrin said. "It would've taken weeks to hunt them all down, maybe months."

"So, you chose not to?" Cal said, his eyes narrowing.

"I'd start there," Lovejoy said. "He's used to wandering around, but he can't do that now. They'll attract attention in small towns, and she'll assume we're looking in the cities. He's gone somewhere familiar, somewhere he feels safe."

…..

They were coming back from the lake when Rose found the apple trees. Lady scampered along at her heels. Jack carried the fishing gear. Rose saw the apples out of the corner of her eye and stepped off the path. "Look Jack," she called excitedly. She plucked a large, red apple.

"I forgot about these," Jack said. There were five apple trees, all heavy with ripe fruit. "We used to pick apples off these every year." He smiled. "I can't believe I forgot." He wiped one off on his sleeve and took a bite. Juice ran down his chin. "Perfect," he said. "Try one."

Rose bit into hers. The flavor was so sweet, and yet just tart enough. They weren't like any apples she'd had before. She sighed happily. "So, now we have an orchard."

"Not quite, but yeah, this is plenty for us," he said. "We can have pies all winter. Apple butter. Cider." His stomach rumbled at the thought of everything they could eat.

"I hope you know how to make those things," Rose joked.

"I have some idea. We'll figure it out."

"There might be something in one of Fabrizo's recipe books," she said.

"My mother wrote things like that down," Jack said. "Maybe that book's still here somewhere."

"We can certainly look."

…..

What few things that were left of his parents' had been taken up to the attic when they moved in. It was a small space, barely tall enough to stand up in. They fetched down the boxes and looked through them in the kitchen. Jack was hesitant at first. There was nothing new to see; it was only ordinary objects, nothing that would spark curiosity or solve a mystery. That was part of the problem. When they were alive his parents always seemed like open books, but now he wondered how much he really knew about them. Who were they, aside from his mother and father?

The first box was clothes. Jack remembered each garment. They needed a good washing, but they were still mostly wearable. Of course, they wouldn't be worn. That would be like inviting ghosts into their lives. "What's this?" Rose said, reaching into a dress pocket. She pulled out a ring. "How did that manage to stay there all these years?"

Jack reached for it. "I don't know," he said, not quite believing it. He had a suspicion, but he it sounded crazy, even to him. The ring was silver with a tiny stone; it barely counted as an amethyst. Rose watched him turn it over in his hands. "It was my mother's," he said.

"I thought so."

He took her hand and slipped it on her finger. "You should have it, Rose. She'd want me to give it to you."

"Are you sure?" she asked.

He nodded. "It's meant for you."

They found little else of interest, aside from some old papers. "Guess we shoulda looked through this stuff before," Jack said. "I wanted it out of the way, but…" He trailed off as he read. Words flashed up at him. _Stock. Bond. Securities. Shares. Interest._ He didn't have to know much about finance to realize these papers were most likely valuable. When had his parents bought these? More importantly, when was there enough money to buy them?

"What is it?" Rose asked.

"I'm not sure," Jack said. He raked his fingers through his hair. "What do you think of these?"

"They look like stock and bond certificates. Didn't you know about them?"

He shook his head. "I'm guessing no-one else did. Or…." Or like the ring, they were waiting for him. Jack couldn't shake the feeling they were meant to come back three. Things were working out so well; it was as if someone wanted it to happen. He told himself it was just wishful thinking. That part of his family was gone.

"We can take them to the bank and see what they can tell us," she suggested.

"Yeah, let's do that. Good idea." Jack gave a smile as he kissed her hand, but inside, he was a whirl of emotions.

…

"So, you're definitely coming Sunday?" Lucy said, trying not to sound nervous. It was only two days away, but that was plenty of time for Fabrizo to change his mind, to decide meeting her family was simply more pressure than he wanted to deal with, to decide _she_ was too much to deal with.

"I'm definitely coming," Fabrizo said. "Don't you want me to?"

"Of course I want you to."

They looked at each other shyly. Lucy felt her cheeks getting hot and hoped he couldn't tell. If he did, he didn't let on.

"I could bring something," he offered.

"You don't have to do that. We can handle the food."

"I cook a lot," he said. "It's not a problem."

"Doesn't Rose cook?" Lucy said it without thinking. She wanted to take it back. What did she care? It didn't matter to her. Jack was part of the past.

"She doesn't make pesto alla trapanese as well as I do," Fabrizo said evenly. "Someday, perhaps."

Lucy tripped over the unfamiliar words. "Pesto alla trapanese? What's that?"

"A delicious Sicilian pasta dish. I'll make it for you," he promised. "I'll take you on a tour of Italy through food, Lucia." His hand brushed hers, and sensing no hesitation, he took it.

"I'd like that," she said. "It's probably the closest I'll ever come to going there."

"You could go."

"What, by myself?" she said.

"Or with me," he offered.

"Do you plan to go back?"

"I don't know. Not now, but perhaps, one day I will. I want my wife to see it."

"It won't matter if she's Italian?" Lucy said.

"Not to me."

…..

There were hundreds of leads to check up on. John, Jacob, Jack, and James Dawson were indeed common names. Lovejoy didn't trust Jack Dawson to turn up anything. It could easily be a derivative or nickname, and they had to consider all possibilities, even that it wasn't his real name at all. But it _was_ the name he told Rose, so it wasn't likely he would change it.

There was a James Dawson, age 45, in Oregon. He was obviously too old. A Jake Dawson, age 22, in Florida, originally from Canada. That was promising. A Jack Dawson, born John, from Wisconsin, age 20, but he was presumed dead. No living relatives. Lovejoy couldn't decide if that was a dead-end or not. The report was a few months old. Even as he moved on to the next one, it tugged at him, refusing to be forgotten.

…

They found themselves sitting across from Bob Reed again, a few hours before the bank closed Friday. "We were hoping you could tell us what they are," Jack said. "We found them in my parents' things."

Bob read over the papers carefully. "Well, what they are is money," he said.

"They are?" Rose said.

Jack hadn't dared hope they were worth anything. It was too good to be true; it didn't make any sense.

"That's what they are," Bob said. "See this one? It's worth at least $10,000. Maybe more now."

"$10,000?" Jack said incredulously. "Are you sure?"

Bob nodded. "Your father must've known what he was doing. He picked good companies with steady growth."

Rose glanced at Jack. His eyes were clouded. "What do we do with them?" she asked. "They aren't too old to use?"

"They're fine," Bob replied. "You can cash them in, or you can keep the investment. Get dividend checks. I suspect your father was using the dividends to reinvest. That's how he ended up with so much."

Jack could only stare at the papers, speechless. "Thank you," Rose said. "We need to discuss this further."

"Of course. Anytime," Bob said. "Let me know what you decide to do, and I'll help you out if I can."

Rose drove home. Jack was silent the whole way. Lady ran out to greet them. The tantalizing aroma of dinner wafted out behind her. Rose touched his arm. "Jack?"

"Yeah?" he said distantly.

"Are you alright?"

"I'm fine."

"If you need to talk," she said, squeezing his hand.

"I know," he said. "I'm gonna stay out here a minute and think after I get the horses inside."

"Don't stay too long. It's getting cold."

Possibilities dangled before him, so many more than before. Travel. Improvements to the house. More land. Food. He could take Rose back to Europe. Fabrizo could visit his family. The art they could collect. There was one idea he was almost afraid to consider.

Rose could divorce Cal. She could be free.


	19. Chapter 19

"What's with the serious faces?" Fabrizo asked. He looked from Jack to Rose. "Did something happen?"

"Yeah," Jack said. He brushed his hair back.

"It isn't—He didn't find us?" Fabrizo said.

"No, nothing like that," Rose said quickly. "We're safe. This is a good thing."

Fabrizo breathed a sigh of relief. "I didn't think he could, but you never know."

"We were up in the attic a few days ago, and we found some papers that belonged to my parents," Jack explained. "Stock and bond certificates. We checked 'em out at the bank, and they're worth a lot of money. I mean, a lot of money."

"What're you saying, Jack? We're rick now?"

"That's exactly what I'm saying," Jack replied. "As far as I'm concerned, this money belongs to all of us. We're a family."

"You're like a brother to me too, Fabrizo," Rose added. "I never had one. It's nice having you in my life."

"I can't believe this," Fabrizo said slowly. "You never knew the money was there?"

"I had no idea," Jack said. He laughed. "If I'd known, we wouldn'tve been sleeping under bridges."

"Guess we never will again," Fabrizo said.

"We were thinking, maybe we'll go back to Europe next summer," Rose said. "You could see your family again."

"I'd like that," Fabrizo said. "I don't know if they'd have me after the way I left, though."

"They'll forgive you," Jack predicted.

"You haven't known many Sicilians, have you?" Fabrizo said.

"Still, you can always try," Rose said. She smiled wryly. "Unlike me."

"Your mother loves you, Rose," Jack said. "She'll figure out you made the right choice. It just takes time."

Rose didn't talk about her mother often. Lately, she didn't even think about her very much. She wondered what compelled her to mention Ruth.

"I was also thinking we can make some improvements to the house," Jack said. "Maybe build onto it and give ourselves a little more space."

"Good idea," Fabrizo said. "I guess we'll be the ones doing the building?"

"We have money now," Jack said. "We can hire people if we want."

"But you won't," Rose said. "We know you, Jack. You'd rather do things yourself."

"Is that bad?"

"No," she said, ruffling his hair.

"Well, I'm getting some servants," Fabrizo joked. "A valet or two. I'm tired of dressing myself every day."

"Having someone dress you isn't much fun," Rose said. "It always made me feel like a child, but then again, my clothes were too complicated to put on by myself. I doubt you have that problem."

"I might," Fabrizo said.

"Even the fanciest of men's clothes are simple compared to some of the dresses I was hooked and buttoned and laced into," Rose said. She shook her head. "You're lucky you don't have to deal with it." She breathed deeply, letting her lungs expand completely, unhindered by a corset and tight bodice. "I'll never wear anything like that again," she added quietly.

….

Rose stopped outside Fabrizo's room. He stood in front of the mirror, staring at himself. His black hair was freshly washed and combed. He wore a stiff, new shirt, and his shoes had been polished. "You look nice,' she said. "Whoever she is, I'm sure she'll love you."

He smiled. "Thank you, Rosa. A woman's opinion, it's helpful."

"You should bring her to meet us."

"I will," he said. "Soon, maybe. If this goes alright. I've never gone to meet a girl's family before."

"What about the girl you were supposed to marry?"

"That was all arranged _by_ our families," he said. "I'd known them my whole life. If they didn't like me, they wouldn't have agreed to the marriage."

"Well, don't be nervous," Rose said. "If she likes you, they will too. You're a good man, Fabrizo, and if you think you aren't winning them over," she added with a smile. "You can always cook for them. I doubt anyone can resist your torta setteveli."

"Only those with no taste," he said. "Like the French."

She laughed. "That French cookbook hasn't changed your opinion of them at all?"

"A little," Fabrizo conceded. "The food's still not my favorite thing about that country," he added, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

"Yes, and I suspect the paintings weren't Jack's favorite part either," Rose said. "I'd rather not think about that." She offered him an encouraging smile. "Good luck."

As she turned to go, Fabrizo said, "There wasn't anyone else, Rosa. He only ever loved you."

"I'm not worried he doesn't love me," she said. "He's proven that more than anyone should ever have to. I don't mind that he has a past, a life before me. It wouldn't be fair to expect him not to, but-" Rose hesitated.

"But what?"

"I hope you're able to be that generous with this girl," Rose said. "You have a past, so you shouldn't mind too much if she does as well." She didn't quite know what made her say it. She suspected Lucy was the girl Fabrizo had been seeing, but she had no proof. Lucy definitely had a past. Jack hadn't told her exactly what happened between them, but Rose guessed most of it. She knew instinctively he made love with her. She wasn't bothered by that so much as the fact he left. It was the only thing she ever thought of reproaching him for, even if his staying meant never meeting her.

"You're right," Fabrizo said. "I'll try and remember that."

…

Jack sat at the kitchen table, the box of certificates open next to him. He studied a sheet of paper, a pencil between his fingers.

"What are you doing?" Rose asked. She kissed the top of his head. "Darling-Jack, you'll give yourself a headache," she went on, as she read over the paper with its hastily scrawled and crossed out figures.

"I'm just trying to see how much we can do," Jack said. "I don't want to sell them all. We don't need that kind of money. That idea about getting the dividends, I like that, and we can re-invest some of it."

Rose took the chair next to him. "You've given this a lot of thought, haven't you?"

"I want to do what's best for all of us. I know keeping the money invested means we could lose it," he said. "But it also means we can get more. It'd be nice to know it was there, just in case. And they kept this long without help from anyone."

'That's true," Rose said. "We don't have to do everything at once either. The house is fine the way it is."

"But if Fabrizo gets married, or we have children, we'll need more room," Jack pointed out. "Assuming he still wants to live with us, or she does."

Rose tried not to sound surprised. "Did you say children?"

"Well, yeah," he said. She couldn't hide the startled look in her eyes. "Do you not want them? I thought-"

"I do," she said. "I can't say I haven't considered what it would be like. With Cal, I didn't want any. I hated the thought of it. But with you…" She smiled.

Jack touched her hand. "It doesn't scare you with me?"

"Not a bit," she said. "I just wasn't expecting to hear you say it so soon. With things the way they are, I wasn't sure we'd have them yet."

Jack knew she was referring to her marriage, something he considered a minor technicality, when he considered it at all. "Rose, now that we've got this money, you don't hafta stay married to him," he said. "I hate admitting it, but this money'll keep us safe. We can find a way for you to divorce him, without him every knowing where we are."

Rose's heart fluttered. "Do you really think so?"

Jack nodded. "I know we can."

"That sounds too good to be true."

"So does finding the money," he said. "But we did."

"Even with all of it, we still won't have as much as he does," she argued. "And eventually, if we aren't careful, ours will run out. His won't."

"Rose, do you want him out of our lives? For good?"

"Jack, of course I do."

"Then trust me," he said. "We'll make it happen."

….

Lucy answered the door. She smiled nervously. "I was afraid you wouldn't come," she said.

"Why wouldn't I?"

She stepped aside, letting him in. "My brothers are a formidable lot," she said. "I wouldn't blame you for wanting to avoid them."

"That'd mean avoiding you. I don't want that."

Her smiled widened. "Let's, um, let's go into the kitchen," she said.

Dinner was being set on the table by Adam. Tom already sat at the table's head. Billy sat to his left. They all turned when Fabrizo and Lucy came in. She didn't remember ever feeling so anxious around her family. She had always been allowed a certain freedom; she was beloved by her bothers, an indulged kid sister. When Jack came around he was greeted like a fourth brother; his presence in her life wasn't only welcome, it was almost taken for granted. Lucy glanced at Fabrizo. He wouldn't have that luxury.

Tom stood up and held out his hand. "Tom McCullough," he said. His handshake was firm, but his tone was friendly. Fabrizo ventured a smile. "Fabrizo DiRossi." His accent sounded thicker in his ears. Was that the way they heard it? Tom nodded, and the round of handshakes continued.

"Well, are we gonna eat?" Billy said.

"You can sit next to me," Lucy offered. She resisted the urge to touch Fabrizo's hand.

"Thank you," Fabrizo said. "Who's that chair for?" he asked, indicating the empty chair at the far end of the table.

"Our Pa," Tom said. "He's not here, so you don't have that to worry about."

"He's in Boston visiting his brothers," Lucy explained.

"I think he's moved to Boston without telling us," Adam said.

"It's been a long time since he saw his brothers," Tom said. "Over twenty years. You can't expect a short visit."

"Is your family here?" Billy asked.

"No," Fabrizo said. "They're still back home."

"Where's that?" Tom asked.

"A village in Sicily, near Palermo," Fabrizo answered. "I left a while ago and traveled before coming to America."

"Why'd you come here?" Adam asked. "There's nothing out here. Unless you were born here, there's no reason to stay."

"I had friends here," Fabrizo said. "They offered me a home. I liked New York, but it was lonely. Meeting people, making friends, it's difficult in a strange place. And I like it here," he added, looking at Lucy. "I wouldn't say there's nothing here."

The brothers exchanged glances. "Who're your friends?" Tom asked. "I'm sure we know them."

"You do," Fabrizo said. "Jack and Rose Dawson."

"So, you're the guy living with them?" Billy said. "We heard about you. You're not like the descriptions."

"Billy," Lucy hissed through clenched teeth.

"What?" Billy said. "He's not."

"You shouldn't-"

"I don't mind," Fabrizo said. "What did you hear?"

"Nothing worth repeating," Tom said. "Like Billy said, you're not like what we heard."

It was a statement of approval, but Fabrizo didn't know how to feel about it. Were they willing to believe the gossip at first because they didn't know him yet, or because he was different, foreign, and had to prove the stories wrong before they would even want to know him? It was a question he tried not to think about.

…

"Don't you need something to eat?" Rose said. Jack stood before the blank canvas, staring. Others leaned against the fall, facing away from them.

"Yeah, I guess," he said distantly.

"What happened to these?" She turned one of the canvases around.

"Don't look at that," he said. "They're not any good."

"This one looks good to me." It was the house, but a future version with more rooms and a flourishing garden. The colors were vivid, the brush strokes bold. It wasn't like the scenes Jack normally painted; there was less realism. "Were you trying to do something different?" she asked.

"And failing at it."

"You didn't fail, Jack."

"It's really not good," he argued. "I'll probably get rid of it or paint over it."

"No, don't. I like it, and even if I didn't, you should keep more of your work. You'll be able to see your progress better that way."

"Believe me, Rose, I can see it," Jack said, frowning. "I'm not making any. I thought I was, for a while, but-" He shrugged. "That's over."

"How can you say that?"

"Because it's true," he said.

Rose shook her head. "It isn't. Your work is exquisite, even more so than when I first saw it. Maybe you're too close to it, and that's why you don't see the changes."

"Maybe." He didn't sound convinced.

She put her arms around his neck and kissed him. "Trust me, Jack. You're a wonderful artist."

"Did you mention something about eating?"

She kissed him again, longer this time. "Later?" she said. Her fingers moved through his hair. "I just realized we're alone."

Jack pressed her closer. "We haven't been alone in a couple months."

Her lips brushed his. "I know."

Having Fabrizo in the house didn't stop their lovemaking, but his presence definitely changed things. They were more self-conscious and took pains not to be overheard. Fabrizo's room was down the hall, and the walls were solid, but still neither of them could bear the thought of being found out. He knew; obviously, he had to know. That was one thing he and Jack never discussed, at least, not anymore. A tangled web of modesty and protectiveness kept them from it.

Jack lifted her off her feet and kissed her all the way to bed. "I've got paint on my hands," he said breathlessly. "I should-"

"I don't mind." Rose pulled him down with her. "They're artist hands," she whispered.

"I can't draw anything like this."

"Sure you can," she said. She kissed him. "We're the drawing, Jack."

….

Dinner was nearly over, and Fabrizo felt guilty for wanting it to end. They weren't unpleasant people. In fact, his suspicion that they approved of him had only grown stronger. That didn't stop their questions or the probing way they looked at him. They were searching for the hole in his story, the flaw that would undo their good opinion of him. He understood why. That didn't make it any easier. Fabrizo wished he could just tell them how much he cared for Lucy, how close they'd gotten. He wished he could say he loved her.

That was impossible, of course. Saying it to her was difficult enough. She gave him a reassuring smile. He returned it. "How long are you planning to stay?" Tom asked, watching their exchange.

"I haven't thought about it," Fabrizo said. "I have no plans to leave anytime soon. I do want to go back to Italy, someday, and see my family again. Not to live, though."

"You'll never live there again?" Lucy said.

"I don't think so," Fabrizo answered. "But you never know what will happen. I'd need a reason not to stay here," he added.

"And you can marry an American?" Billy asked.

"I don't see why not," Fabrizo said. "Why couldn't I?"

"It's just some people may not like it," Billy said. "You being-" He searched for the right word.

"Italian?" Fabrizo offered. "Foreign?"

Billy opened and closed his mouth without a word. "That's not exactly what I meant," he managed to sau.

"He wasn't trying to offend you," Tom said.

"I know," Fabrizo said.

"We like you," Tom went on. "If you want to see Lucy, you can."

…

"Jack?" He didn't respond. Rose lightly shook him. "Jack?" He tightened his arm around her and buried his face in the pillow.

"Jack, wake up." Her voice was thin with anxiety. She heard Fabrizo coming in downstairs. "Fine," she whispered, kissing Jack's hair. "I'll talk to him."

She slipped into her clothes and hurried downstairs. Fabrizo was in the kitchen. "How did it go?" she asked.

"It was fine," he said. He took down the kettle. "Do you want some tea?"

"Sure." She glanced at the clock. "It's later than I thought. It really must have gone well."

"They seemed to like me," he said. "I'm allowed to go on seeing their sister. They told me so." His eyes were heavy. He stared down into the tea tin.

"You aren't happy about that?"

"It was the way they said it," he replied.

"Well, most families feel they have to give permission," Rose said. "They don't let just anyone into the fold."

"I understand that. In Sicily, families are so close and so loyal. You'd never let your children marry anyone you didn't trust and approve of," Fabrizo said. "But it was like I had to try harder to get their approval, harder than I should've. I'm not like them. When they hard gossip about the Italian living with you two, they believed it, and I'm not sure it's because they didn't know me yet."

"Because you aren't like them," she said.

"Yes, Rosa."

'So they acted as though they were doing you a favor by treating you decently," she said.

Fabrizo nodded. "Yes. Exactly. How did you know?"

"That's how Jack was treated by the people I knew. They acted like they were so good, so generous for even speaking to him at dinner," Rose said. "I couldn't stand it."

"I couldn't stand it either."

"I'm sorry that happened," she said.

'Thank you, Rosa." He poured out the water for the tea. "Why are you up?"

"I had a dream," she said. "It doesn't matter."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"I was going to. I tried to wake Jack, but he's sound asleep," Rose said. "Besides, I shouldn't bother him. It was nothing."

"You sure? It got you up."

"It was about Cal," she said slowly. "He-He found us. Jack-" She closed her eyes. "I can't think about it."

"We're safe," Fabrizo said. "He won't find us."

"Jack wants to use some of the money to hire a lawyer. He wants me to divorce him. He thinks it can be done without Cal finding us," Rose said. "I want to believe that, but what if he's wrong? If Cal found us, if he hurt Jack, I couldn't live with myself."

"It wouldn't be your fault. Jack knew what he was getting into. He made that choice."

Rose took a sip of tea. "There's something else."

"What?"

"I may be pregnant," she said.

…..

The file kept nagging at him until Lovejoy gave it a closer look. There wasn't much, but what there was made him dig deeper. Finding any record of Jack was difficult, given how often he moved around, but it wasn't impossible. One by one, the pieces fell together.

"I have it," he announced triumphantly. He dropped the now-thick file on Cal's desk.

"You're sure?" Cal said. He flipped open the file. "This isn't another dead end?"

"It's him."

"This time I'll go myself," Cal said. "No more mistakes."


	20. Chapter 20

**AN: Things are about to get rolling again, starting with this chapter. Thank you for being patient! I wanted to set everything up before getting back into the Cal side of the story.**

Fabrizo agreed to keep Rose's secret. "I'll tell Jack, of course," she said. "As soon as I'm sure. It could turn out to be nothing, and he has enough to think about." She wanted to tell him; she wanted to see his eyes light up and hear his gasp of excitement. She'd wanted to tell him from the moment she first suspected. Now that he was talking about having children and hiring lawyers, and there was a secret fortune coming their way, it mattered more than ever that she be sure.

"We'll have to go down to Milwaukee or Chicago to find a lawyer," Jack said the next day. "There's no-one around here who can do it."

"When do you want to go?" Rose asked.

"As soon as we can get the money."

"We still have most of the money from my rings," she reminded him. "Why not use that?"

"I don't wanna touch that anymore. If we're living off the investments, we can use that money as savings," he said. "Can't hurt to have something safely put away."

"We can always sell the rest of my jewelry. I don't need it. I'll never wear it again."

"I won't make you do that," Jack said.

"You wouldn't be making me, Jack. I'd actually rather not have it."

"Keep it for now, though," he said. "Who knows. Maybe we'll need it."

…..

Lucy was already at the usual spot when Fabrizo arrived. "You came," she said.

"Of course."

"I was worried after last night-"

He waved away her concerns. "Last night doesn't matter. All I care about is your brothers won't try to keep us apart." He took her hands. "If that happened…"

"We'd run away?" she joked.

"Would you?"

His seriousness startled her. "Run away to where?"

"Anywhere," he said. "Haven't you thought about leaving, ever? There's no somewhere you'd like to go?"

"Not really. I've always been happy right here. I don't know what I'd do if I left," she said.

"Would you leave?"

"I don't know," Lucy said. "It would depend on the circumstances, and where I was going, I guess. You aren't planning to leave now, are you?"

"No. I just wondered," he said.

"Good. I hope you don't."

…

"How long are we staying in Milwaukee?" Rose asked.

"We don't hafta rush back," Jack said. "We can stay a few days if you want. I can ask Tom to take care of the animals so Fabrizo can come along."

"If Lady lets me leave," she joked.

'Assuming she does, yeah." He smiled. "I'm glad you're so close."

"It feels like I've always had her." She reached down to scratch the dog's ears. "Kind of like you."

"I'm flattered."

"You should be. Didn't you compare me to a dog first?" she said.

"Is that how I put it?"

Rose ruffled his hair. "Almost." Her face became serious. "Jack, things are changing. The money and the divorce, if it happens-"

"It will," he said confidently.

"Alright. _When_ it happens," she said. "Are you bothered by any of it? Do you wish things weren't changing?"

"No. So far it's all been good changes. The money will help us. The dreams we have, they'll be possible now. I know you can be happy without it," he said, before she could object. "And you can travel the world without it. We're not gonna change the way we live, but we'll be so much safer now. I can't complain about that, and it comes from my parents, so it's like a part of them is still here, looking out for me, for us."

"Do you really believe they are?" she asked. "They can see us?"

"Yeah, I do. It might sound crazy, but I believe they see us. I don't know where they are exactly. I don't know much about things like that, what happens when you die and all, but I believe we go _somewhere_ , and it's nothing to be afraid of. The people we love never leave us completely."

"That's a comforting thought," Rose said.

"It's not something you have to worry about any time soon," Jack said. "Whatever happens, _we_ won't change. I won't leave you."

"If there were more changes….or maybe just one, one incredible change," she said slowly. "You wouldn't be upset?"

Jack shook his head. "No. Can't stop it, can we?" He grinned and touched her cheek with his thumb.

"No, we can't," Rose agreed.

"Is something bothering you, Rose? If you're worried about the divorce, don't be. He'll never know where we are. I promise."

"I'm not worried about that," she said. "I was just curious." She shrugged. "That's all."

…

"I've met your family," Fabrizo said. "Would you like to meet mine?"

Lucy gave him a puzzled look. "Your family's in Italy."

"I meant my family here. Jack and Rosa," he explained. "You've already met Jack, right? I forgot."

"I've met them both," she said shortly.

"Does that mean you'd rather not have dinner with us? If you don't want to, that's fine," he said. "I just thought I'd invite you."

"I'll come," she said.

"Only if you want to."

"I want to, Fabrizo. I want to know you more, which means knowing them," Lucy said. She smiled and reached for his hand. "When do you want me to come?"

"How's tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow then," she said. As she said it, Lucy wondered if she could handle seeing Jack and Rose again. Her feelings for Fabrizo were real, but would they hold up with Jack in front of her? She suspected Fabrizo didn't know about their history. Was it worthwhile to tell him, or would it only cause jealousy?

Fabrizo kissed her knuckles. "Meraviglioso."

"What does that mean?" she asked.

"Wonderful."

"I like that better than our word," she said. "Italian's a pretty language."

"I'm teaching Rosa. I could teach you," he offered.

"You wouldn't mind?"

"Sarebbe una gioia," he said. _It would be a joy._

…..

The news of Lucy's impending visit was met with stunned silence. "That's who you've been seeing?" Jack said.

"Is there something wrong?" Fabrizo said.

"No," Jack replied. "I never expected it to be her is all."

"But you know her family. You like her," Fabrizo said. "She's what my mother called a nice girl, no?"

"She's a lovely girl," Rose said. "I only met her once, but I could tell. Of course you can bring her here."

"Jack?" Fabrizo said.

"Yeah, sure, of course," Jack said. "When's she coming?"

"Tomorrow."

"Guess that means you'll do the cooking," Jack said with a grin.

"Don't I always?" Fabrizo said.

"Only because you don't trust us to do it," Jack replied.

"I trust you," Fabrizo said. "That has nothing do with wanting to eat your cooking."

Rose laughed. "Well, I wouldn't be offended if you didn't want to eat mine. I'm not sure I would either."

"It's not that bad, Rosa," Fabrizo said. "You're getting better. Jack, on the other hand, will always be hopeless." He chuckled.

"See if I teach you how to make apple pie," Jack said.

"That's alright," Fabrizo said. "Rosa will, won't you?"

"Oh, I'm not part of this," Rose said. "I'll be outside picking apples if you need me."

After she'd gone Jack said, "You're serious about Lucy?"

"Yes," Fabrizo said. "I've never been serious about a woman before. I ran away to avoid that, but she's different. She's beautiful. I could talk to her forever. Jack, I _like_ her. We're friends, you know? I want to be around her all the time."

"I know that feeling," Jack said. "I get it with Rose."

"And you trust her. You know you can say anything to her."

"You're safe with her," Jack said. "And you can't imagine ever being with anyone else. If she left you-" He shook his head. "You don't even wanna think about that."

"I may love Lucia," Fabrizo said. "She's so guarded, though. I don't know why. She won't tell me."

 _That's my fault_ , Jack almost said. He resisted the urge to tell everything. "You'll get closer to her," he assured him. "It takes longer with some people. It happened in a day for me and Rose, but we're not like other people."

"You're crazy, you mean."

"Probably," Jack said good-naturedly.

…..

The town was more prosperous than Cal expected, the buildings nicer. Everyone he passed looked friendly. Smiles came easily to them. He was regarded with curiosity but not hostility. He wondered what they thought of Rose. In a place like this, she was sure to attract attention.

Cal wasn't sure how to find them. The name of the town was all Lovejoy was able to give him. There was no address. He dropped his luggage off at the only decent loggings-and even those were far beneath him-and set out for the newspaper office. Someone had to be able to tell him something.

…..

"I have to go into town," Fabrizo said. "We're out of origano and basilico." _Oregano and basil_

"You need them now?" Rose said.

"For the dinner tomorrow," he explained. "I promised her something special, and I can't do that without the right spices."

"I need to go too," Jack said. "Me and Bob hafta talk more about the investments. We can go in the morning."

"As long as it's early," Fabrizo said. "I'll still have to cook when we get back."

"We'll make it," Jack said.

A light rain fell that night, bringing the temperatures down. Frost covered the ground when they woke up. A sharp pain shot through the back of Rose's head. By the time she finished breakfast it was unbearable. "Jack, would you mind if I didn't come with you today?" she asked.

"You don't hafta come if you don't want," he said. "But are you sure you wanna stay here alone?"

"I don't feel up to going. I'm sorry. I think I should go back to bed for a while."

"You don't look so good," Jack said. "What's wrong, Petal?"

"It's a headache. I'm sure it's nothing."

Jack watched her with concern. "I can stay with you, have the meeting another day."

"No, you should go," Rose said. "I'll be fine."

"I don't want to leave you alone if you're sick."

"I won't be alone. I'll have Lady," she said. "I'll go upstairs and lie down, and when you get back, I'll feel better."

"If you're sure," he said hesitantly.

"I'm sure, Jack." She kissed him. "Nothing will happen."

The sky was dark, but that mean nothing. There was no indication this would be unlike any other day. As they set out Jack looked back at the house over his shoulder, but Rose had already gone inside.

…

Finding out where they lived was easy; actually getting there was the difficult part. In the end Cal paid a farmer to take him most of the way. Rain fell as he approached the yard. The place was shut tight; no lights burned in the windows, despite the lack of sun. He drew back into the trees as Lucy approached.

"Who is that?" he wondered.

Cal watched her go up the front steps and knock. She wore a scarf over her hair, to protect it from the rain, and a coat. It took a few minutes for the door to open. He smiled at the sight of Rose. "There you are," he said softly. "No getting away this time, my dear." He touched the gun in his coat pocket. "Jack can't save you now."

….

It only took a few minutes for Fabrizo to get the ingredients he needed. Jack wasn't having that kind of luck, however. According to the front teller Bob was due back any minute. She'd been saying that for half an hour. "Do you mind waiting a little longer?" Jack asked.

"Sure," Fabrizo said. "If we leave by ten, I'll still have plenty of time to make everything."

"Thanks. We won't take much longer," Jack said. "I don't want to leave Rose alone too long, and you need time to make things perfect."

"I'll get it done," Fabrizo said cheerfully, hiding his anxiety. "What's wrong with Rose? I thought she just had a headache."

"She does," Jack said. "But I just don't like the thought of her by herself, so far away from everyone. Something could happen."

"She's a capable girl. She'll be fine."

"I'm worrying too much," Jack said.

"Maybe a little."

"I know it's crazy, but I have this bad feeling."

"We've made it this far," Fabrizo said. "And things are looking up. You're probably just worried it's too good."

"Probably."

While Jack's fears were being assuaged, Cal made his way toward the house. He walked slowly, taking light steps. He hardly felt the cold rain landing on him. The curtains in the front windows were open. He dropped to his knees and looking in. Nothing. It was only an immaculate, empty room. "Damn it," he muttered. He tried the front door and found it unlocked. "So trusting."

He slipped around to the side of the house. The first window was a disappointment, but the second one showed what he wanted to see. Rose and Lucy sat at the kitchen table, a pot of tea between them. He couldn't hear their conversation, but that didn't matter. Rose's chair was angled away from him. Lucy had her back to him. He crouched down anyway, watching over the window sill.

"They should be home soon," Rose said. Lucy nodded. "We didn't expect you this early," Rose added. She smiled nervously. "Not that you aren't welcome."

"Of course not," Lucy said.

Her tone was civil, but Rose couldn't shake the feeling that Lucy intended her words to cut. "So, you and Fabrizo are spending a lot of time together," Rose said.

"Yes, you could say that."

"He certainly seems to adore you," Rose went on.

Lucy's cool façade cracked slightly. "Do you think so?" she asked. "Does he talk about-about us?"

"He wouldn't admit he was going off to see a girl at first," Rose answered. "Jack teased him mercilessly about it." At the mention of Jack's name, Lucy's eyes hardened. "But now he tells us about you, or rather, he's told us a bit about you," Rose finished.

"And he talks to you a lot?"

"He and I are friends," Rose said. "We share certain confidences, yes. I care about him."

"Do you?" Lucy challenged.

"Yes." Rose met her gaze. "He's-Well, he's been very kind to me, even when he didn't have a reason to be. And Jack thinks the world of him. We couldn't very well not get along. It wouldn't be fair to Jack."

Lucy's tone softened. "You love him, don't you? Jack?"

The question didn't surprise Rose. "I love him more than I can say. I don't know how to explain it. He's the best man I've ever known," she answered. "The best thing that ever happened to me. He understands me, and I understand him."

"I thought I understood him once," Lucy said. "I was wrong."

"Lucy, can we talk about what happened?" Rose asked. "I don't mean to intrude. We hardly know one another. But don't you think we should try to get along?"

Lucy thought a moment. "I care about Fabrizo," she said. "A lot. I want him to be happy. I still-I still care for Jack."

"But you don't want to know me."

"I'm not sure I don't hate you," Lucy admitted. The words came out before she could stop them.

"I can understand that."

"Can you?" Lucy said.

"What if I hated you?" Rose asked.

"Why would _you_ hate _me_? You have Jack. What's there for you to be upset about?"

"You have his past," Rose replied. "You had years with him, grew up with him. I can never have that. He loved you first. Part of him will always love you."

"You actually believe that?" Lucy said.

"I believe he'll always love you in some way," Rose said. "And the time you shared is important. I don't hate you, though."

"Did you tell you about us?"

"I guessed," Rose said. "And then he told me."

"You guessed?"

"It was obvious. The way you looked at him, the things you said."

"Did he tell you we….?" Lucy trailed off.

"He didn't have to," Rose said. "But yes, he did."

"And that he asked me to go with him?"

"And you refused," Rose said.

"I'm not like him," Lucy said. "I can't run after adventures. I don't mind living here. It's boring at times, but it's also nice. Safe. It's my home."

"I never felt at home anywhere until I met Jack," Rose said. "I had one, a rather nice one by most accounts, but the places I lived before were just houses. I didn't belong there."

"What about your family?" Lucy was curious in spite of herself. She didn't want to hate Rose, but she also didn't want to be her friend either. So why was she still talking to her? She didn't like admitting it, but Rose wasn't what she expected.

"We aren't close," Rose said.

Lucy sensed that was the end of the subject. "Has Jack told you much about his family?"

"He's told me some things. I don't think he likes talking about it. I don't want to upset him."

"It was terrible, what happened," Lucy said. "Both of them at once. I tried to help him; we all did. We couldn't understand what he felt. That loss. My mother died three years ago. I understand a little better now."

"My father died two years ago," Rose said. Their eyes met, and a wan smile passed between them. "It's strange to talk about," Rose went on. "I-" she was cut off by Lady's barking. The little dog stared at the kitchen door; her hair stood on end. "What is it, girl?" Rose said.

"Maybe she heard something," Lucy suggested. "It could be them."

"No, she wouldn't react this way."

Lady growled at the door, her teeth bared. Rose stepped past her, and she nipped her ankle. Her barks changed tone. "She's trying to warn us," Lucy said. "That's how my brother's dogs sound when there's a snake nearby."

"Do you think one got in somehow?" Rose said, shuddering at the thought.

"Maybe."

Cal waited on the other side of the door, listening. He smiled. His suspicions were confirmed. They were alone. There was the dog, but he could handle her. Outside the rain fell in sheets, and the wind picked up. A storm was rolling in.


	21. Chapter 21

**AN: This chapter is a bit intense. There's violence. Just a warning.**

Fabrizo glanced out the window. "Rain's not letting up," he said. They sat in the café at a table in the corner. By the time they met with Bob the storm was starting. They ducked into the café to stay dry, figuring it would pass quickly. As the minutes ticked by, they realized that wasn't likely to happen. "We can't make it back in time," Fabrizo added. "It's not possible."

Jack stared down at his cup. "I know," he said grimly. "I don't like it."

"Rose'll be fine. Lucy's probably there, so at least she's not alone."

Jack wasn't sure how comforting that thought was, but he didn't say anything. It wasn't time to tell Fabrizo about his past with Lucy. "I just, I have a bad feeling," he said. "We've gotta get back."

…

Cal stepped behind the door as it opened. Rose came through first, Lady tugging at her skirt and growling quietly. "There's nothing-" Rose's words died in her throat as she turned around. Her blood ran cold, and time stood still. Cal grabbed Lucy's arm and pulled her back. She gasped, more in surprise than pain. He held one arm behind her. His hand encircled her neck. Rose moved toward them. "No," he warned. "I wouldn't, if I were you, Rose."

Lucy's eyes were wide. "What's going on?" she gasped.

"Let her go," Rose said. It was a struggle to keep her voice steady. "She isn't part of this. You have no reason to hurt her."

"Rose, do you know who he is?" Lucy asked. Cal tightened his grip, and she cried out.

"Don't ask questions," Rose said. "The less you know, the better." Her knees were like rubber. "Cal, please. I'll do anything. Just don't hurt her. Don't bring anyone else into this. You came here for me."

"Fighting for your friend," Cal said drily. "How noble of you," His mouth curled into a cold smile. "You're right. I did come for you. I'm not interested in her. However, I can't be certain she won't tell someone she saw us."

"She won't," Rose insisted. "You've made your point. You've scared her. Just let her leave, and I won't fight you."

Amusement gleamed in his dark eyes. "As if you could, my darling," he said. "Fine." He released his hold on Lucy. "Go on," he ordered. "While I'm feeling generous."

Lucy looked at Rose. "You heard him," Rose said. "Get out of here. Now. There's no reason for you to be hurt."

Lucy ran without looking back. She burst out into the rain, hardly feeling it. Her heart pounded, and the trembling in her body had nothing to do with the cold.

Meanwhile, Cal moved toward Rose. She stepped back, instinctively shrinking from him. Lady ran in front of her, barking. Warning growls issued from her throat. With a laugh, Cal kicked her aside. She skidded across the floor, whimpering. "No!" Rose cried, lunging for her. Cal grabbed her arm. His fingers dug into her skin, and he jerked her back.

His lips were close to her ear. She felt his breath. "We have things to discuss," he said. "It's not every day I'm reunited with my wife."

…..

Lucy was nearly home when she tripped over an exposed tree root. She tumbled forward, catching herself just in time. The sky was black; the trees swayed in the wind. "What am I doing?" she said. "I can't leave her there. He'll kill her." There wasn't time to think, to consider why she cared or why Rose's battle was any of her business. Had she been thinking, Lucy would have fetched her brothers and _then_ gone back, but adrenaline coursed through her, driving her back the way she'd come, heedless of the consequences.

Lucy crept up to the back door. An axe had been left on the porch. She picked it up, grateful for someone's carelessness. The kitchen was empty, but she heard the struggle going on in the next room. Rose screamed, and glass shattered. There was a crash. Cal swore. Holding her breath. Lucy eased the door open. They didn't notice her.

The room was in a shambles. Windows were broken. Furniture was knocked over and in pieces. Rose stood against the wall, a chair leg in her trembling hands. Her face was cut. Bruises were forming on her cheek and her arms. Her eyes blazed defiantly as she raised the make-shift weapon. "You'll have to kill me," she said. "I won't go back."

"Do you think I can't take you back alive?" Cal scoffed. "I found you didn't I? All the way out here in your little safe haven. This romantic hideaway in the woods, the place you thought I'd never look." He stepped toward her. "You're mine, Rose," he said softly. "And I don't give away my things."

"I'll run away again if you try and take me back," she promised.

He laughed. "You'll never manage it."

"Maybe not, but I'll try. I'll spend the rest of my life trying to get away," she said. "And Jack will come for me. You know he will. He helped me escape before. He'll help me again."

"He won't get the chance. I'll make sure of that."

Rose swung the chair leg, landing a blow on Cal's shoulder. He staggered back, stunned. His face contorted in rage. "You bitch!" he snarled. He leapt toward her. Rose scrambled to get away. Lucy ran forward. She brought the axe down against his back, blunt side up. It was only a split second of clarity, but she realized injuring him was preferable to killing him. She couldn't live with that on her conscience; all she wanted was a chance for them to get away.

Cal howled in pain as he crumpled to the floor. Rose stared at Lucy. "Come on!" Lucy yelled. "Now!"

But Rose reacted too slowly. Cal was on his feet again by the time she started to run. He grabbed her from behind, yanking her curls, and shoved her to the floor. Rose screamed. She twisted around, trying to get out from under him. He laughed as he hit her. One slap. Then another. And another. Rose couldn't see. Blood spurted from her nose. Cal's eyes were frenzied.  
Lucy prepared to swing again. "I wouldn't," he said, pulling a gun from his jacket pocket.

Lucy's gaze flicked over to Rose. She lay still, her eyes closed; her breathing was shallow. The damage done to her was even worse up close. Lucy knew she had to do something; it couldn't end like this. She met Cal's eyes. "You won't kill me," she said confidently.

"Are you certain?"

"Why hunt her down just to kill her?" Lucy argued. "You want her back; otherwise, you wouldn't be here. You would have shot her and been done with it."

Cal pointed the gun at Rose. "Are you quite certain?" he asked. Suddenly, Lady sprang onto his back. She sunk her tiny, razor-sharp teeth into his shoulder. He forgot Rose as he attempted to shake off the little dog. She held on fast.

Here was their chance. Lucy swung the axe again, hitting his head this time. Cal's eyes rolled back in his head, and he fell with a hollow grown. He didn't move. Lucy kicked him in the stomach. He didn't react.

"Come on, Rose," she urged, lifting the other girl to her feet. Rose wobbled. Her eyes opened. "What? Lucy?"

"There's no time," Lucy said. "We have to go."

"Cal." Rose's eyes focused just enough for her to make out his shape on the floor. "Is he—"

"I don't know," Lucy said. "We'll find out later." She put her arm around Rose, propping her up. "Let's go." Rose was too weak to argue as they hurried out into the storm. Lady limped along behind them.

…..

The storm wasn't letting up. In fact, it was getting worse. Thunder shook the café. "Think we can make it back at all?" Fabrizo said.

"We've gotta try," Jack replied.

"I hope Lucy didn't get caught in this."

"She probably stayed at home," Jack said. "Or she got to our place early, and she and Rose are safe together."

"Maybe they'll be friends after this," Fabrizo said.

"Maybe."

Reluctantly, they left the warmth of the café. The streets were awash with mud; water was up to their ankles. "You sure we can do this?" Fabirzo yelled, struggling to be heard.

"What?" Jack yelled back.

"You think we'll make it home?"

"I don't know." Jack looked around. He never would have guessed it was only a little past noon. The sky was as dark as night. He couldn't see through the sheets of rain. His unease grew, forming a knot in his stomach. They had to get back; they couldn't wait for the storm to pass. Rose needed him now. Leaving her was a mistake. Jack was sure of it, though he couldn't explain how he knew. And yet, he also knew trying to get back now would be dangerous. He couldn't ask Fabrizo to take that kind of risk just because he had a bad feeling.

"Maybe we should find somewhere else to dry off and wait," Jack yelled. "It's gotta blow over soon, right?"

"Right. We'll probably get lost if we go now anyway."

…..

Rose and Lucy ran blindly. Tree branches whipped into their faces; roots grabbed at their ankles; mud splashed their legs, but they didn't stop. Their hearts pounded; their lungs burned. They held each other tightly, never looking back. Lady managed to stay at their heels. If Cal was behind them, they didn't want to know. They could hardly see anyway.

…..

Cal didn't know where he was. He lay on the floor, head aching, and stared at the ceiling. Bit by bit, the morning's events came back to him. The pain worsened as he sat up. Gingerly, he held his head in his hands. This wasn't how things were supposed to go at all. Rose wasn't supposed to fight back. Where had she gotten that kind of nerve? Even with Jack around, she was supposed to be easy prey.

Cal climbed to his feet. The storm still raged outside. Rain blew in through the broken windows. He considered his options. He could wait, in hopes they would return. The cold and the storm almost guaranteed they would, unless they could find shelter nearby. That seemed likely, too, though. Rose knew him well enough to anticipate his moves. She might guess he would be waiting for them. What if they weren't alone when they came back? Enough had gone wrong already. He didn't need a gang of local men involved.

Cal straightened his clothes. Going after them was the best choice. He checked for his gun and chuckled when he found it kicked into a corner. "You should have taken it with you, Rose," he said. "You might have had a chance.'

…

Rose didn't know how long they ran before they finally collapsed. Her breathe came in gasps; her whole body shook. Lady pressed against her, licking her hands. She gathered the little dog in her arms. They were both drenched. Lady was shivering, but at least she was there. Rose blinked away tears. It finally happened. All those months of worrying, of telling herself it wouldn't happen, and it finally had. Her worst fears were coming to life again, and just like always, she'd been powerless to stop it.

"I don't know where we are," Lucy said. "I was trying to get us back to my house, but I can't see a thing. Can you?"

Rose shook her head. "No."

"I guess that's not so bad," Lucy went on. "If we can't see anything, neither can that guy."

"A storm isn't going to stop him. If he wants to find us, he will. Trust me."

"Let's not make it easy for him," Lucy said. "C'mon."

They stopped when they came to a cluster of still-leafy trees. "We'll be a little drier under there," Lucy said.

"What about lightning?" Rose asked.

"Yeah, guess you're right. Let's keep going."

The next time they stopped it was at the entrance to a small cave. "This could work," Rose said. They hurried inside. It was dark, but at least it was dry. They huddled together against the smooth rock wall. They saw out easily, but no-one passing by could see in. "I know where we are now," Lucy said. "We're only a couple miles from home. We ran all the way to the other side of our land. We used to play here when we were kids." She glanced at Rose, who didn't seem to have heard.

Rose stared at the ground. Jack filled her mind. The way he looked the night they met. When they kissed for the first time. When he slept. In the lake, under the moon. She squeezed her eyes shut against what came next. Jack, bruised and bloody in the cargo hold. Hitting the floor of her suite, deathly pale, eyes closed. It would happen again when Cal found him. There was no question of _if_ he would find them, only of when. _I'm so sorry, Jack,_ she said silently. _I never wanted this to happen._

"Rose?" Lucy nudged her. Tears trickled from her closed eyes, and Lucy realized her shaking was about more than just the temperature. She put an arm around her. "Rose, we're gonna be alright," she said. "I promise. We aren't that far from home. When the rain stops, we'll find my brothers. They'll help."

"You should go," Rose said.

"What?"

"You shouldn't stay with me," Rose said. "It's not safe. He'll find me, and when he does….Please, Lucy, you've been hurt enough already. I can't help Jack anymore, but…."

"Nothing's gonna happen to Jack," Lucy said. "He and Fabrizo are probably still in town. They'd have to be crazy to go out in this storm."

"He won't give up. I knew he wouldn't," Rose said, not hearing her.

"Who is that guy?" Lucy asked. "Why he's want to hurt you?"

"He's my husband," Rose answered.

….

Jack paced the length of the room. They'd rented one of the cheaper hotel rooms, reasoning they could dry their clothes and stay warm better there than anywhere else. "That won't get us home any faster," Fabrizo said.

"I can't just sit still. Aren't you worried?"

"Not really," Fabrizo said. "I'm sorry, Jack. I don't see much reason to be. The girls are fine. They're either together at our house, or Lucy's at home. I know you don't want Rose to be alone, but if she stays inside, the storm can't hurt her. And she's got the dog for company."

"You're probably right." Jack dropped into a chair. He brushed his hair back, leaving it standing up.

"I _am_ right," Fabrizo said. "You'll see."

"As soon as the rain stops, we're leaving."

In fact, Fabrizo had begun to worry. It was probably just Jack's nerves rubbing off on him, but he couldn't shake the feeling. What if something really was wrong? He'd never forgive himself if he just shrugged off Jack's concerns and something happened to Rose or Lucy. "They're fine," he said, as much for himself as for Jack.

…..

"What do you mean he's your husband?" Lucy said. "Jack's your husband."

"He is, in a sense," Rose answered. "Unfortunately, Jack's my husband in every way but the legal one. We've been trying to see what can be done to change that. Or rather, we were going try."

"How did you end up with him?"

"Which one?" Rose said. "Cal or Jack?"

"Both, I guess," Lucy said.

"It's a long story. I never wanted to marry Cal," Rose said slowly. "I had to, for my mother. My family was once quite wealthy. Until my father lost everything. He—He killed himself rather than face it, leaving Mother and I alone to fend for ourselves."

"That's why you married this Cal?"

"He's richer than you can imagine," Rose said. "He could take care of us. My mother couldn't bear the thought of losing the only life she'd ever known. To be honest, I was a little afraid myself. I wasn't brought up to do anything but be decorative. I wanted more, but how was I to get it? I didn't know what I was getting into by marrying Cal."

"He's hurt you before?" Lucy asked.

Rose nodded. "When I met Jack…he was the answer to everything. He was the man I dreamed of. He helped me run away. If not for him, I'd still be with Cal, miserable, waiting to die."

Lucy tightened her arm around Rose. "He isn't going to kill you. He won't hurt Jack, either."

"Who's going to stop him?"

"We are," Lucy replied. "You, me, Fabrizo, my brothers, Jack. We'll make sure it doesn't happen."

"I know what you must think of me," Rose said.

"No," Lucy said, brushing Rose's wet curls away from her face. "You don't."

….

The storm was over when they woke up. Sunlight streamed through the mouth of the cave. Rose's body ached. Moving was torture. Lucy didn't fare much better. Only Lady seemed to have recovered at all.

"We should go," Lucy said. "If we hurry we can make it to my brothers in less than an hour."

"I hope Jack and Fabrizo haven't gotten back yet," Rose said. "He may still be at the house."

"Don't think that way. Besides, there's two of them. They can handle him."

They stayed close as they walked, hands clasped. Neither had to say it; they just felt safer that way. Rose carried a heavy stick in her free hand. It might not be much help against Cal, but it was better than nothing.

They were nearly home when it happened. They make a turn, and there he was. The three of them stood frozen for a moment, until Cal laughed and came toward them. Lady barked angrily. Rose tried to shoo her away. She wasn't big enough to withstand many more kicks.

"Well," he said, in a voice that was almost pleasant. "I knew I'd find you eventually." His dark eyes bore into Rose. "You don't want me to hurt this girl, do you, Rose?"

"You know I don't," Rose said.

"Come along then," he said. "And I won't."

Lucy held fast to Rose's hand. "Don't," she ordered. "Ignore whatever he says."

"She can't protect you," Cal warned. "There's no storm for you to run into now. There's nowhere to hide, Rose. No-one to help you."

Rose's voice cracked. "Leave us alone!" she cried. Cal laughed again. "I mean it," she warned. "I'm not afraid of you."

"Yes, you are," he said. "You're a smart girl. I'm willing to forgive you for this mess you've caused. We'll blame Jack. He influenced you. You're still my wife, after all."

"I'm not," Rose said. "I am _not_ your wife!"

Cal reached out to grab her. "Aren't you?" he snarled. Rose cried out. Lucy shoved him back. He caught her arm. "You," he hissed. He hit her before she could react. Lucy's head snapped back; tears filled her eyes. Cal's fist landed in her stomach; she couldn't breathe. He tossed her aside.

Rose held the stick, poised to fight. Fear shone in her eyes. Her hands were steady. She heard Jack's voice. "You can do this, Rose," he said. "Don't be afraid."

"I'm not afraid," she said.

She swung as Cal lunged for her. The stick slammed into his jaw. He screamed but didn't stop. She swung again. He caught the stick and wrenched it from her hands. His eyes were cold. Suddenly, he had her by the throat. His fingers pressed into her skin. Rose fought to breathe. She clawed at his hands. She had to escape; she couldn't die like this, not now, not after learning what it was like to be happy, to live. Her nails broke the skin. She ripped, barely conscious of what she was doing. His grip loosened. She slammed her knee into him, unsure what she hit. Whatever it was, it doubled him over in pain.

During the struggle, the gun fell from his pocket. "I'm not afraid," Rose gasped. She grabbed the gun. "But you should be."

"Don't, Rose." Tom laid a gentle hand on her arm. "Let me have that," he said. "Don't do something you'll regret." She looked at him. "You're alright now," he said. He carried a shotgun. Billy and Adam were behind him. "We'll handle this." Sobbing, she dropped the gun.


	22. Chapter 22

Jack shook Fabrizo awake. "C'mon, the storm's over."

Fabrizo looked around, eyes blurred with sleep. The room was bathed in light. "What time is it?"

"A little after nine," Jack said. "We musta fell asleep last night."

"The girls'll be worried."

"I hope so," Jack said. Fabrizo shot him a puzzled look. "If they're worried about us, that means they're alright," Jack explained.

They dressed quickly and left without breakfast. If they hurried they could be home in just over an hour. The soggy ground slowed their pace, however, and they found themselves climbing over felled trees and limbs. "It was hardly a road to begin with," Fabrizo said. "Now, it really isn't one."

"It'll take forever to clear this out," Jack said. "We'll need help if we wanna finish before the first snow." He pulled his cost tighter around him. Snow wasn't far off. They might see it in just a couple of weeks. The storm hadn't just taken down trees; it had also taken the temperature down even further.

"I'll be glad to get home," Fabrizo said. "A hot breakfast and hot bath, and then I'll explain everything to Lucy."

Their spirits lifted as the house came into view. They hurried toward it, sliding through the mud. The knot in Jack's stomach tightened as they got closer. "Something's not right," he said.

"What do you mean?"

"Look," Jack said. The door was ajar. "Rose wouldn't leave it like that." They paused, listening to the silence. It pressed in on them, thick and eerie. Fabrizo nodded, and Jack pushed the door open with his foot. They stared at the destruction within. Jack's blood turned to ice. He knew what happened. It was his greatest fear come true. "Maybe—Maybe she's still here," Fabrizo said weakly.

Jack didn't answer. He stepped inside. He saw the blood spattered on the floor, and he felt sick. He'd done this; it was his fault. "Rose," he whispered.

…

Cal offered no resistance. They carried Rose and Lucy back to the house. Lady followed along, staying close to Rose. Tom kept the shotgun at Cal's back as they walked. He tied him to a post on the back porch. Cal slunk to the floor, glaring.

"We'll have to get the doctor," Tom said. Lucy was standing with Billy's help, but she was pale and shaking. Her face was bruised. Rose lay in Adam's arms, limp and barely conscious. Her skin was hot to the touch; her face and throat were an array of black and blues; blood soaked through her skirt.

"I'll get him," Billy offered.

"Take Lucy upstairs first," Tom said.

"What about the sheriff?" Adam asked.

"That can wait," Tom replied. "He's not going anywhere."

….

They put Lucy to bed. Billy helped her change into dry clothes with only a little embarrassment. He averted his eyes and focused on the problems at hand. It was more difficult with Rose. They couldn't leave her in wet clothes, but they didn't feel comfortable removing them. She wasn't their sister, after all. "The doc can do it," Adam said.

"It'll be an hour before they get back," Tom pointed out. "She can't stay cold that long."

"Poor thing. She looks about gone already."

"And that's why we have to do what we can for her," Tom said.

They kept their eyes away from her body as they stripped her wet layers and replaced them with a clean nightgown from Lucy's drawer. Adam blanched when he saw the blood. "Is she hurt worse than we thought?" he asked.

"See if you can catch Billy," Tom said. "Tell him to fetch Mrs. Pembroke first. There should be a woman here."

"Alright."

"And go see about things at their place," Tom added. "Find out where Jack is." In the midst of everything, Fabrizo had been forgotten.

…

Jack couldn't see. The room swam before his eyes, and try as he might, he couldn't make it stop. "Here," Fabrizo said, putting a glass of cold water in his hands. Jack stared at it. "Drink it," Fabrizo said. "Or splash it on your face. Whatever'll help."

Jack took a sip, but swallowing was impossible.

"The kitchen looks normal," Fabrizo said. "It must've happened in here."

"I knew something was wrong," Jack said. "I knew I shouldn't have left her."

Fabrizo wanted to reassure him, but what could he say? The broken furniture, the smashed window, the blood on the floor all spoke for themselves. Rose was gone. The dog was gone. And Lucy, if she'd been there, was gone too. His own fears threatened to choke him. He fought against it; both of them couldn't fall apart. "We have to look for her," he said.

They met Adam on the porch. "Where were you?" he cried. "Do you have any idea what happened?"

"We were in town," Fabrizo said. "The storm caught us. Where are the girls?"

"They're over at our place," Adam said. He cocked his head at Jack, who stared, unblinking. "Is he alright?"

"It was a shock," Fabrizo said. "What we found." He touched Jack's arm. "Jack? The girls are alright. Lucy's brothers found them. They found Rose."

"Rose," Jack said, more to himself than anyone else. He looked at Adam as if seeing for the first time. "You know where she is? You've seen her?"

"Why don't you two go on over there?" Adam suggested. "Tom'll explain everything. I'll see to things here."

Jack nodded. "Yeah, we'll do that."

"Thanks," Fabrizo said.

Normally, Fabrizo could run as quickly as Jack, but as they ran the two miles it was a struggle to keep up with him. They didn't bother to know before going in. "Rose?" Jack called. Tom appeared at the top of the stairs. "Where is she?" Jack said.

"Up here. Lucy too."

Jack didn't say a word; he just leapt up the stairs and followed Tom's nod to the right door.

"Can I see her?" Fabrizo asked. "Lucy?"

"For a minute," Tom said. He glanced behind him. Seeing Jack was out of earshot he added, "She's in better shape than Rose. They're both hurt and sick, but Rose doesn't look good. She-I'm not sure, but I'm afraid there might be more wrong," Tom said. "I sent Billy after the doctor and the mid-wife. She may be able to help."

Fabrizo shook his head. "Poor Rose. She told me…."

"So then…."

"Maybe," Fabrizo said.

"Did Jack know?" Tom asked.

"She was waiting to tell him."

They stared at the closed door for a moment. "I know Lucy'll want to see you," Tom said. He had questions he intended to get the answers to, but for now, seeing the girls safe and cared for was enough. Whatever happened, whoever the man on the porch was, Jack and Fabrizo weren't involved with him. Tom was certain of that.

…

Jack gazed down at Rose. He could clearly see the fingermarks around her throat, on her arms, the handprints left behind on her face; the damage inflicted by Cal was vividly colored and impossible to look away from. The sick feeling took hold again. Jack dropped to his knees and picked up her hand. It burned in his. "Rose," he whispered. "My Flower-Girl. My Petal." He kissed her fingers. "I'm so sorry. I should never have left you alone."

Gently, he kissed her cheek. The heat radiating from her couldn't be ignored. "What happened?" he wondered, brushing back her hair.

Rose's eyes cracked open. "Jack?" Her voice was a rasp.

"I'm here, Rose. It's me."

"Cal….He…."

"Ssshh. I know," he said. "You're safe now. You and Lucy. Her brothers found you. He can't hurt you anymore."

"I was afraid…he'd find you…."

"Don't worry about me," Jack said. "Just rest." He kissed her again, barely moving his lips across her bruised skin. "You're safe, Rose-Petal. I'm here. I won't leave."

Jack closed his eyes and lay his head against her hand. He didn't know how much time had passed when he heard the door open. He jerked up, muscles tensed. Tom held up a hand. "Just me," he said. "I've got someone here to help Rose." He stepped aside and a middle-aged woman came into view. She wore her dark hair in a neat bun; her eyes were alert and clearly missed nothing. Recognition flashed in them. "Well, if it isn't Jack Dawson," she said.

"Mrs. Pembroke," he said.

"I hear your wife's having some trouble."

"She-" Jack looked at Tom.

"Let's go downstairs a minute, Jack," Tom suggested. "The doctor's with Lucy. He'll look in on Rose when Mrs. Pembroke's finished."

"But Rose—" Jack began.

"Will be just fine," Frances assured him. She put a hand on his shoulder. "You'll be back up here before you know it."

Jack kissed Rose's hand again before allowing himself to be led into the hallway. "What's going on?" he asked.

"That's what I'd like to know," Tom said. "C'mon. Let's talk downstairs."

Jack hesitated, his hand on the doorknob. "Yeah, alright," he said. "You deserve to know everything."

…

Lucy's room was bright. A braided rug was on the floor; it matched the curtains. The walls were a pale blue. Fabrizo sat in a chair next to her bed. He'd been there since the doctor left. She slept lightly. Her hand was warm, but he could tell the fever wasn't strong. Her face was bruised on one side. He felt guilty for his relief at her condition, but he felt even worse about her involvement in all of it.

"This shouldn't have happened," he said. "It has nothing to do with you." He pressed her hand to his cheek. "I'm sorry, Lucia. I didn't know. I never thought….When Jack was worried I told him he was overreacting. If I'd listened, if we'd come back right then, maybe…" He kissed the corner of her mouth. "I love you," he said. "I knew I did, but I was afraid to admit it. You….I didn't know if you'd feel the same. I don't care anymore. Lucia, you need to know. I want to be with you."

"You love me?" she whispered. Lucy half-opened her eyes. "Really?"

"You heard all that? I thought you were asleep."

"Mostly, I was," Lucy said. "I thought it was a dream."

"It's not a dream. I'm here, Lucia. I'm so sorry," Fabrizo said.

"It's not your fault," she said. "I'll be alright. He didn't hurt me very much, and I'm not that sick."

"He shouldn'tve been able to hurt you at all."

"Is Rose alright?" she asked.

"The doctor's with her," Fabrizo said.

"Good."

"I don't know what would have happened if your brothers hadn't been there," he said. "When I think…I can't think about it."

"I'm surprised they didn't kill him."

"Where is he?" Fabrizo asked.

"Outside. Or he was."

"You're sure?" he said.

"I'm sure it's him," she replied. "Her husband."

"She told you?"

"Last night," Lucy said. "She told me everything. We ran out into the storm and hid in the cave. It's near here. He found us this morning, right before my brothers did."

"They might not've killed him, but Jack will," Fabrizo predicted. "And if _he_ doesn't-"

"Don't talk like that. I don't want you thinking that way."

"Lucia, what he did-"

"I know what he's done," Lucy said. "But you're too good a man for that. You're all too good for it."

Fabrizo kissed her. "Ti amo, Lucia."

"I love you too. Really, Fabrizo, I do," she said.

It wasn't the wild, youthful love she'd had for Jack. That would never fully go away. This was different, deeper, more nourishing. Sweeter. It was a feeling she could trust.

…

"Ordinarily, I'd say it's none of my business," Tom said. "But this affects us now. Lucy got involved, and-"

"I'm sorry," Jack said. "You don't know how sorry I am. I feel awful she was hurt. It's my fault, and I can't ever thank you enough for helping Rose like this."

"Of course we helped her. Even if Lucy hadn't been there, we woulda helped," Tom said. "Now, who in the hell is he? What's this about? And where were you two?"

"Me and Fabrizo went into town yesterday morning," Jack explained. "Before the storm. We thought it wouldn't take long. Rose stayed behind. She said she wasn't feeling well. I didn't wanna leave her. I had this feeling….It kept getting worse the longer we were gone."

"So the storm kept you in town," Tom said.

"Right. He must've seen we were gone. He was probably waiting for us to leave, the bastard."

"Who is he?" Tom asked again. "Someone you met-"

"No, he's-" Jack paused. "Tom, I'm gonna tell you something we've tried to keep secret. It doesn't matter now, I guess. I said I'd tell you everything, and he's already found us. Rose and me….we're not married, not technically. She-"

"Good God, that's her husband?" Tom said incredulously.

"No," Jack said. "Well, yeah, in a way, but not to us."

"You can't just go off with someone's wife-"

"She's my wife," Jack said forcefully. " _I_ love her. You saw what he did to her. That's not the first time. He hurt her before. When we met she was so afraid and so sad." Jack shook his head. "I couldn't leave her there. She wanted to go with me. Even if she hadn't loved me back, I woulda helped her escape. Tom, you gotta understand I-"

"I do," Tom said. "I probably would have done the same thing."

"I'm so sorry he hurt Lucy. She's not-"

"Lucy will be alright," Tom said. "I'm not excusing what happened. This isn't over as far as I'm concerned, but she's in better shape than Rose. Much better shape. I guess he wasn't really interested in her," he added grimly. "She didn't say much before we put her to bed, but she did tell us she got away yesterday. She went back to help Rose. Why she didn't just come get us, I don't know. Guess she wasn't thinking straight."

"If she hadn't gone back…." Jack let out a heavy breath. "I can't think about that."

"He's out back, you know," Tom said. "We've got him tied up. We-"

"What?" Jack cried. "He's still here?"

"Sure. We-"

Jack turned on his heel and was halfway to the back door before Tom could say any more. "Jack, what are you doing?" Tom asked. "Adam's going after the sheriff, and when-"

"Sheriff can't help," Jack replied. "Not with him."

"Sure he can. We all-"

"No." They stepped outside. Cal lifted his head. His face was a stone mask. "The law won't touch him," Jack went on. "Not with his money. Will they?" Cal didn't respond. His eyes were mocking.

Jack didn't intend for it to happen. He moved before he realized what he was doing. The kick was well-aimed, hitting Cal square in the kidney, the full force of Jack's seething emotions behind it. Cal sucked in his breath and clenched his jaw but made no sound. Jack kicked again. "No-one'll do anything!" he yelled. "And we'll have to keep hiding!" Another kick. "That's what you want, isn't it?" He grabbed Cal's hair and jerked his head back, smacking it against the post. "We won't," Jack said in a deadly calm voice. "We're not gonna be afraid. If I hafta kill you now-"

"Jack." Tom took hold of his arm. "That's enough."

"Tom, you don't understand-"

"I do," Tom said. He looked into Jack's eyes. "This won't help Rose. If the law won't touch him, what do you think'll happen if you kill him? Be smart, Jack."

"Are you saying we do nothing?" Jack cried.

"I'm telling you to wait for the sheriff," Tom said.

"And I told you-"

"Trust me," Tom pleaded. "We'll get him."

Jack stared at Cal, whose mouth turned up in a sneer. "I don't know if I can believe that."

"You're suffering from delusions if you think anything will come of this," Cal said. "Anything that benefits you, anyway."

Jack moved toward him. Tom held him back. "No," he said. "Let's go see about the girls. There should be news by now."

…..

Lucy, it was predicted, would make a fast and full recovery. She needed only rest and plenty of food and drink. "I'd like to stay awhile," Fabrizo said. "If I can."

Billy looked at Tom. Adam looked at Rom. "I think that would be alright," Tom said. "She'd like to have you here."

"I want you to know, if I could've done anything to protect her, I would have," Fabrizo said.

"I suppose you know," Tom said. "All about Rose?"

"I knew. I was with them when it started, when they first had trouble with him."

"If you knew there was a threat, you should have told us," Adam said angrily.

"I didn't know-"

"You knew it was possible," Billy argued.

"I didn't think he'd find them," Fabrizo said. "I never thought Lucy would be involved. I wouldn't let anyone hurt her, ever. I love her."

"We know," Tom said. "Your intentions are good. This wasn't your fault."

"Rose—" Fabrizo began.

"Rose is going to stay here until she's strong enough to go home," Tom said. "It's too cold to move her even just a few miles." He glanced up at the ceiling. "Which means Jack'll be staying here too."

There was a knock on the door. They waited while Billy answered it. He came back with a sturdy man with salt and pepper hair and a thick mustache. "Sheriff's here," Billy said.

…..

Jack lay next to Rose, one arm over her, the other beneath her head. She drifted in and out of sleep. She had cooled down some, but not enough. He could tell just by looking at her. When they told him about her condition they tried to make it sound better than it was. Just a fever brought on by exposure, the doctor said. A flu. She'd get over it. There was an unspoken _If_ lurking in that statement. Jack sensed it. _If it didn't get worse. If she still had the strength to fight it._ Her injuries and the ordeal she'd suffered through had drained her energy. Losing the baby sapped her even further.

Frances assured him it meant nothing about her health. "She'll be able to have others," she said. "It might have happened anyway. When it's early you can never tell." She told him Rose would heal quickly, but he saw the dress, stuffed in a bucket and hidden in the kitchen. He saw the blood and knew there was more to it; this wasn't as simple as Frances wanted him to believe. Nor was it a random occurrence. If Cal hadn't been there it never would have happened. Jack was certain of it.

"Why didn't you tell me?" he whispered. "I woulda stayed with you." He wondered if she knew what happened or if it was lost in the trauma. Part of him hoped she hadn't even known she was pregnant yet. That might spare her from being told she wasn't anymore.

Jack knew when it happened. At first he wondered. They were always careful. But no, not always. There was that night when they wanted each other too much to think. He remembered kissing her belly, her hands in his hair, her arms around him-Jack opened his eyes and moved closer to her. That night was over. Looking at her pale, bruised face, he feared they wouldn't have another like it.

Jack tensed as the door opened. Billy stuck his head inside. "Sheriff's here," he said.

"Alright."

 **AN: Next week I'll get back to posting two chapters. I'm sorry it took so long to get last week's up!**


	23. Chapter 23

The sheriff didn't believe him. His silence said everything. Jack watched him, waiting for a reaction, _any_ reaction. When Harry finally spoke it was in measured, even tones. "That's a very complicated story," he said. "And it all happened, just like that?"

"That's what happened," Jack said.

"I was there," Fabrizo added.

Harry looked at them closely. "Hmm…."

"You don't believe me, do you?" Jack said.

"It's not a matter of believing," Harry said.

"Of course it is," Jack said. "You either believe us, or you believe him."

"I haven't spoken to him yet."

"Doesn't matter," Jack said. "Tom, I told you. This is why I didn't want to get the law involved. He's not gonna help."

"Hold on a minute. Who said I'm not gonna help?" Harry asked. He flattened his hands on the table and leaned toward Jack. "This is a delicate situation. You got a man tied up out back, and you got two girls that've been attacked, clearly by _someone_. You say it's him. No-one knows who he is. He could be anybody." 

"If he was just anybody, we wouldn't have a problem," Jack said. "Trust me, he's somebody."

"I'm inclined to believe that," Harry said. "Matter of fact, I'm inclined to believe everything you've told me. Problem is, what can I do?"

"What do you mean?" Tom said. "If you see what happened, Harry, arrest him."

"Do you know what would happen if this guy is as important as Jack says, and I take him in?"

"You've got witnesses," Fabrizo said.

Harry ignored him. "Do you really want Lucy subjected to that?" he asked Tom.

"Let's see what has to say," Tom replied.

….

"What?" Lucy looked from Harry to Tom. "Are you saying you won't do anything?"

"I'm saying it's not an easy matter," Harry said. "This could get ugly, especially for you girls, and I don't know how effectively arresting him will be. He'll probably be out in a day or two."

"How can it get any worse?" Lucy asked. "He tried to kill us. He would have. Sheriff, have you seen Rose? It's as bad as it can get for her. Do it," she pleaded. "Arrest him. That's your job."

Harry glanced at Tom. "You heard her," Tom said.

"Alright then," Harry said.

….

Cal's head lifted when Jack stepped outside. His face remained blank, his eyes cold. If he felt any discomfort, he didn't show it. The temperature wavered somewhere around 34 degrees, and yet no-one had said a word about bringing him inside. There was an unspoken consensus that if the happened to freeze, so much the better.

Jack stared at him for what felt like a long time. When he spoke it was a shock to them both. "Why'd you do it?" Cal blinked and said nothing. "I've thought about it so many times," Jack went on. "Trying to understand why you'd do those things to her. How you could do it." He shook his head. "I don't get it." Cal remained silent. "I love her so much," Jack said. "I'd do anything for her, to keep her safe. I couldn't hurt her. Nothing could make me do what you've done." He waited another minute before turning to go. "She'll be fine," he added. "In spite of you."

"You think I don't love her?" Cal said.

Jack looked at him over his shoulder. "Whatever you feel, it's not love," he said.

…..

When Harry left he took Cal with him. Fabrizo breathed a sigh of relief as he watched them go. "I know how things work," he said. "But I'm glad he's trying. The girls deserve that much."

"I hope they aren't making a mistake," Adam said.

"We're too far out for anything much to happen," Tom assured him. "When the story gets out, no-one'll know who we are. There might be some talk around here, but that's nothing."

"Not for girls," Adam pointed out. "Talk can ruin their reputations."

"Well, Rose has Jack," Tom said. "And I doubt he's going anywhere."

"Neither am I," Fabrizo said.

….

Jack held Rose's hand between his. She wasn't quite so hot anymore, or maybe he was just used to it. There was a raggedness to her breathing. He recognized the sound of fluid building. The fever wasn't the only threat she faced. He opened the jar on the bedside table. The thick, medicinal smell hit him instantly. The doctor left it, along with a few other things. There was a syrup for coughing, a tonic for strengthening her blood, and another for fever. She'd had a spoonful of each already, carefully given by Jack. She still hadn't eaten. That worried him.

He unbuttoned her nightgown. It was strange seeing a part of her without bruises. The unblemished skin looked even paler than before. Slowly, Jack rubbed the liniment across her chest, working it down into her skin. He had a flash of his mother doing the same thing for him. How long ago had that been? Over a decade, at least.

Jack kissed her forehead, just the way his mother always did after giving him medicine. He wasn't sure of that wasn't the most important part.

….

The knock was soft. "Come in," Lucy called. She was propped up by pillows; quilts were piled on her, and a fire roared. The room was as warm and cheerful as it could be. She smiled at Jack. "Well, hello," she said.

He lingered in the doorway, his hand on the knob. "Do you feel like talking?" he asked. "I could come back later if you-"

"No, it's fine. Come in. I'm not too sick for company."

"I won't stay long," he said. "I just…I wanted to see how you were. Fabrizo said you were doing alright, but I thought I should come."

"I'm glad you did," Lucy said. "He's right. I'll be over this in no time. It's a flu, really."

"I'm sorry it happened. I can't say that enough. It shouldn't have. This shouldn't even involve you."

"Maybe not," she said. "But it does. We can't change that. I don't think I'll ever be able to forget what happened. I don't know…I don't know how it will stay with me, but I'm sure it will."

"I'm so sorry, Lucy," Jack said. "I never wanted anyone to be hurt. That's why we came here. I thought we'd be safe. I told her she would be."

"Do you know how he found you?"

"No," he said.

"Are you leaving again?"

"I don't know," Jack answered. "We were making all these plans for the spring. We were gonna go to Milwaukee soon and try to get her a divorce. I found money. Did you know that?" He laughed. "I found thousands and thousands of dollars, all in stocks and bonds, put away by my father. I never knew anything about it. We were gonna use it to travel. It was gonna take her back to Europe and marry her there," he said.

"How is Rose?" Lucy asked gently.

"She'll be alright," Jack said. 'It looks bad now, but she'll be fine. In a few days, she'll be past this." He spoke more to convince himself than Lucy. Jack knew Rose's recovery would be long and difficult, and the physical side was only a small piece of it.

"She has you," Lucy said. "That's sure to help."

"A lot of help I've been."

"You have been," she said. "Jack, she loves you. She needs you. When we were hiding last night, she told me what happened, how you two met. It was the last thing I ever expected. When I first saw her, I hated her," she went on. "I snuck over and watched you together a few times, and I wondered how you ended up with her. Why you'd marry a girl like that. I understand now."

"You do?"

"She's not what I thought she was," Lucy said. "I can see why you love her. And you were right. We weren't meant for each other. It was hard to accept, but I've accepted it. Jack, you have a way of…You make an impression on people," she said. "It's not easy to move on from."

"Fabrizo loves you,"

"I know he does," she said. "I love him too. It's odd. I didn't realize it was happening. I didn't want to know. I was so used to being unhappy, to wanting you back. I almost kept him away."

"Don't do that. Please," Jack said.

"I won't. There's no reason to make myself miserable," Lucy said. "Especially now that I've seen what some people have to live with."

"Do you think it was wrong to bring her with me?"

"No," she said. "Leaving her there would have been wrong."

"It's gonna get bad once people find out."

"We can't let him go," she said. "We can't let him get away with everything he's done. Whatever we have to deal with, it'll be worth it."

"I almost forgot what a great person you are," he said. "I'm sorry for that too."

….

Cal sat on the bench, staring through the bars. There was only one cell, and it wasn't used often. The sheriff's office consisted of two rooms and a small closet. The cell was in the back room, out of sight. There was a table and chairs. A checker board was set up. Harry and a deputy, Joe, were in the middle of a game.

"What're we doing with him?" Joe asked.

"Well, I figured we'd take him over to see Judge Samuels on Monday," Harry replied. "I already let him know what's going on. I'm hoping he'll let us keep him without bail." He glanced over his shoulder at Cal. "I don't want him leaving town."

"You really think you can make this stick?" Joe said.

"I'm gonna try," Harry replied. "I figure I owe it to those girls. If you'd see them, you'd understand."

"I heard one of 'em might not live."

"It's touchy right now. Jack's beside himself. I haven't seen him this upset since his folks went, one after the other."

"I forgot you were sheriff then," Joe said. "Me and him, we're about the same age. I felt so bad for him. There wasn't anything anyone could do. I wasn't surprised when he left."

"Well, now we know why he came back," Harry said.

"So, it's all true then? He and that girl ran away together? They pretended to be married?"

"Didn't your mother teach you not to repeat gossip?" Harry said. "Yes, it's true, as far as I can tell. You know, I warned them about pursuing this. That story will be all over town by tomorrow. It'll be all over the next county by tomorrow night. And then the papers'll get involved. It will get bigger every time someone tells it. I don't know if they realize what they're in for."

"They could always leave again," Joe pointed out.

"Lucy won't go anywhere, even if she is keeping company with a foreigner, and they can't leave while the case is still going on."

"Is she really?" Joe said. "Her and that Italian?"

"You didn't know? She's been going with him for a while."

"I'd heard something about it," Joe said. "But I didn't believe it. To think, a girl like her going with a guy like that when there's so many regular fellows around. It just doesn't make sense."

"He's decent enough, I suppose," Harry said. "He was pretty concerned about her."

"But still. It's not exactly right, now is it?"

"I'm sure her brothers aren't thrilled about it. When their father gets back, he'll probably have something to say," Harry replied. "By then it might be too late."

"You think she'd marry him?" Joe said.

Harry shrugged. "Maybe. I never thought Jack would run off and leave her like that, or that he'd come back outta the blue and with someone else's wife."

Joe nodded toward Cal. "He say why he did it?"

"He hasn't said much of anything. He asked for his lawyer, and I told him we'd see about getting him one by Monday."

"I asked for _mine_ ," Cal said.

"And I already told you I'd send a telegram out to him," Harry said. "But I can't guarantee he'll make it in time. We're pretty far out compared to where you're from."

Cal's stare was now a scowl. Harry's expression didn't change. If he was going to make any progress with this case, it would take every skill he had, every favor, and some tricks that weren't quite respectable and maybe not quite legal. But he'd done it before. Never on a case like this, but few men remain sheriff for over twenty years, nearly always unopposed, by being strictly honest all the time. There was a moral grey area here, but Harry figured it was in his favor. Whatever he or anyone else might think about Jack and Rose's actions, the violence done to the girls canceled it out.

….

Jack placed a damp cloth against her cheek. It wasn't much, but he hoped it would help bring her temperature down. When it became too warm to be useful, he put it in a bowl of water. He wrung it out and placed it against her neck. He'd been doing that for hours. He watched her sleep, listened to her breathing, alert for signs of distress.

And he talked.

"We could stay in Paris," he said. "I'll try to be an artist again. You can be a dancer. Remember, you said that? Like Isadora Duncan. That would be nice, wouldn't it?"

He moved the cloth to her wrist. "I'd like it," he went on. "I can see you onstage. Your hair would be like fire under all those lights. We could be famous. Or maybe not," he said. "I don't need to be. You don't either, do you? I don't think we can stay here, though. I wish we could. It was nice. I really…I really love it here. I didn't think I could ever be happy here again, but Rose, you changed that." He kissed her hand. "Thank you. For everything."

Jack gazed down at her. She was only sleeping, but he worried it was more than that. Somehow, she wouldn't wake up; she was lost to him already. He touched her face. It was cooler than he expected. He put his wrist to her forehead. Cool. Normal. She wasn't flushed anymore.

"You'll be alright Rose," he said. "Don't worry."

…

"Jack, are you hungry?" Fabrizo stood over him. "There's food ready downstairs."

"I'm fine," Jack said. He didn't turn away from Rose. "Thanks."

"Are you sure? You haven't eaten today."

"I'm not hungry," Jack said. "Maybe later."

"You mean maybe when Rose wakes up?"

"She'll probably be hungry," Jack said.

"Yeah," Fabrizo agreed. "But you're probably hungry now."

"I'm fine. Really." Jack glanced at him. "I can't eat now."

"Jack, what happened, it wasn't your fault. You had no way of knowing he was here."

"I knew something was wrong when we left," Jack said. "I knew I shouldn't leave her, but I did anyway."

"You can't blame yourself. Rose wouldn't blame you."

"It's not just me," Jack said. "It is now, this time, but it's him too, and everyone else who knew about it and didn't do anything. We all let this happen to Rose and to Lucy, and how many other girls?"

"You can't save everyone," Fabrizo said.

"You're right. I can't. I didn't save Rose. She saved herself. I just helped. But they can't all do that. It can't be up to them to do everything on their own."

"What are you trying to say?" Fabrizo asked.

"I don't know," Jack replied. "I've just been thinking about what happened. What's going to happen. What they'll say about us, about her, and whether it'll all be worth it."

"Lucy think so," Fabrizo said.

"I know. I hope she's right."

…..

"I never made it to Holland." Jack said. "We'll go together." He lay next to Rose, his arm around her. She was curled toward him, as if she knew he was there. Lady pressed against her back. "I hear it's beautiful. Tulips and windmills and canals everywhere. There's plenty to draw. You could learn Dutch. You're so good with languages."

The room was dark, save for the glow of the fire. The wind blew outside, cold and sharp, but inside it was warm and cozy. Under different circumstances, it would have been a romantic scene.

Jack moved closer to Rose, tightening his arm around her. She slept peacefully. If he closed his eyes, he could imagine they were home, and it was a night like any other, but when he opened them and saw the bruises covering her body, he couldn't deny the truth. This was anything but an ordinary night.

….

He said he loved her. That kept coming back to the top of Jack's mind. How could Cal say he loved Rose after all the things he'd done? How could anyone possibly believe that? What justification was there for his behavior?

Jack didn't understand at all. Cal meant what he said. Somewhere in that twisted web of emotions he carried inside him was love for Rose. But it was a violent, jealous love, more like hate than any sort of affection Jack had ever seen. It was as if he hated Rose for what she made him feel. If he could control her, he could control himself.

Rose whimpered in her sleep. She tried to roll away, jerking her head.

"Don't, Rose," Jack said soothingly. "It's alright." He gave her a gentle shake. "Wake up, Flower-Girl. It's just a dream."

"No," she murmured. "Jack."

"It's me," he assured her. "It's Jack. You're safe."

Rose peered at him in the dim light. "Jack?"

"Yeah."

"I couldn't remember where I was," she said. "The dream, it was so real. I was out in the woods again, alone. Cal was behind me."

Jack held her as tightly as he dared. "You're safe, Rose," he said. "Cal's locked up, and he won't ever get near you again."

"We don't know that."

"I promise he won't hurt you again," he said. "Lucy and her brothers are gonna help. And Fabrizo. He won't get outta jail for a while, and when he does, we'll be far away. We'll be married."

"I heard you talking while I was asleep. Those are some grand plans," she said.

"We'll do it," Jack said. "All of it."

"I'd like that." Rose laced her fingers through his. "But what if you're wrong? Men like him don't get punished for what they do. It's the people who speak out that suffer."

"Don't think like that. He wants you to be afraid," he said. "He wants that power over us."

"I can't help it. I don't know if I'll ever feel safe, Jack, not even with you," Rose said.

"You will." But Jack wasn't sure, and in a very realm way, he knew Cal had won.


	24. Chapter 24

Jack didn't leave Rose's side until the next morning. She was sleeping; her fever was down, and for the first time since it all began, he felt hungry. He whistled for Lady to follow him. She ran toward the door, tail wagging, but then she stopped and looked back at Rose.

"C'mon, girl," he said.

She let out a low whine in reply.

Jack bent down to pet her head. "She'll be alright while we're gone," he said. "It'll just be a few minutes."

It was bitterly cold outside. Jack stood on the porch, hands in his coat pockets, and breathed through his scarf. Lady ran through the yard, overjoyed to be outside again. At his whistle, she bounded up to the porch, panting. "That's enough," he said, giving her ears a scratch.

The house was silent. Rose and Lucy were asleep. Fabrizo had gone home to deal with things there. Adam and Billy were out clearing away branches, and Tom was on his way into town. Jack didn't know most of this; he only knew the empty house gave him an eerie feeling he didn't like. In the kitchen he found breakfast leftovers. He ate ravenously. Lady watched from his feet, head titled expectantly. "Here you go," he said, tossing a bit of sausage down to her. She looked up at him, awaiting more. He chuckled. "I'm not supposed to do this. Shouldn't feed dogs from your plate." But he gave her more anyway. Poor thing. She'd been through nearly as much as Rose. It was incredible she'd managed to stay with her through it all.

Jack heated a pot of water on the stove. He'd take a real bath later. For now, just cleaning up a little would do. When he was finished he made a pot of tea and carried it upstairs, along with fresh toast.

Rose's breathing worried him. He touched his wrist to her forehead. She was warm, but not hot, at least.

"Rose?" he said softly. He kissed her cheek. "You gotta wake up for a minute."

"Why?" she murmured. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," Jack said reassuringly. "Everything's fine. You've gotta take some medicine, and then you can go back to sleep. And I need you to eat, Rose. Please."

"I'm not hungry."

"I know you don't feel hungry," he said. "But you are. You haven't eaten in days. You can't get better if you don't. Here. I brought you some tea and toast."

"Is there jam?"

"There's jam," he said. "I couldn't find milk for you tea, though."

"That's alright," Rose said.

She ate slowly. Swallowing hurt, but the warm tea felt good going down her throat. "Maybe I was hungry," she said when she finished. Jack poured her another cup of tea. "I can get you something else," he offered.

"You don't have to."

He held out a spoonful of medicine. "Do you want something else?"

She nodded. She made a face as she swallowed the bitter liquid. "How much more of this do I have to take?"

"Two more spoonfuls," Jack answered. "But they're different stuff, so maybe it won't be so bad."

She swallowed the next two quickly. "They were," she said, gulping down tea.

"Sorry, Petal. But they're helping," he said.

"Do you really think so?" Rose said. "I don't feel any better." She lay back. "Everything hurts. When I'm not cold, I'm hot. I'm so tired, but when I sleep…."

"What?"

Rose's eyes were heavy. "I see him," she said. "It's like it's all happening all over again. I'm lost, and he's chasing me. No matter how fast I run I can't get away. It's so cold, and I can't find you. In my dream you're gone, and I know he's already found you. You're—" Her voice broke.

"I'm not," Jack said, lifting her into his lap. "I'm right here with you. He can't touch us. You'll never be lost or chased again. Trust me, Rose."

"I don't trust much of anything anymore."

"Not even me?" he asked.

She laid her head on his shoulder. "If I trust anyone, it's you."

"You don't have to be afraid," Jack said. "No-one here's gonna hurt you."

"They've been so nice to me, and I'm causing them so much trouble. What happened to Lucy is my fault. They should all hate me. Even Fabrizo," Rose said. "It's my problem, and I brought them into it."

"No, Rose, you can't think that way," Jack said. "None of this was your fault. He caused everything. He's the one who hurt you and Lucy. He's the one who should be hated, not you. Never you." Gently, he raised her head so their eyes met. "I don't know what he told you, but it was a lie," he went on. "He hurt you because he wanted to. That's it."

"I wish I knew why," she said. "Maybe that would help. At first I thought it was something I'd done or something he thought I'd done, but that's not it."

"We'll probably never know. Try not to think about it."

"I can't stop myself," Rose said, a sob in her throat. She pressed her face against Jack's shirt. His scent was imbedded in the cloth. Despite his attempt at a bath, he'd been wearing the same clothes for days. Fabrizo was supposed to be bringing him clean ones. Jack hadn't given it much thought. A fresh shirt seemed insignificant with everything else going on.

"Can we go home?" she asked.

"I wish we could, but you can't go out in the cold. You'll get worse."

"I want our bed," she said.

Jack kissed her. "Me too."

…..

Fabrizo came back with clothes for the three of them and a bag of food. He figured it was one small way to repay what the McCulloughs had done for them. At least they wouldn't be eating up all their supplies. He knew they weren't thrilled about him being there. Tom seemed to mind less, but he wasn't so sure about the other two.

Fabrizo said it wasn't Jack's fault, but that didn't stop him from blaming himself. They were right. He could've warned them. He knew Cal was out there, looking for Rose, and he knew what he was capable of. He'd seen it firsthand. He'd even run from it. But it wasn't his secret to tell. How could he know telling them wouldn't just put Rose—and Jack as well—in even more danger?

Fabrizo knocked quietly.

"Come in," Jack said.

Fabrizo smiled at Rose. "You're looking better."

"Thank you," she said. "Jack told me the same thing, but I didn't believe him."

"He's right," Fabrizo assured her.

The bruises were still dark, but they were fading. All the swelling had gone down. Her eyes weren't blurred with fever anymore. She didn't look well by any means, but even a small improvement was better than none.

"I brought you some clothes," Fabrizo said, handing Jack a bag. "There's some for you, and uh, things for Rose." He blushed, self-conscious now. She knew he'd gone into her drawers and touched her clothes. "I should've asked fist, but—"

"No, it's fine," Rose said. "I'd like to have my own things. Thank you."

"You're welcome, Rosa."

"Thanks Fabri," Jack said. "Everything okay at home?"

"Everything's fine," Fabrizo said. "I'm gonna see about fixing the windows next week."

"You don't hafta go to all that trouble," Jack said. "I'll get around to it."

"I don't mind," Fabrizo said. "Really. I'mm gonna go make dinner before everyone else gets back."

"You're making dinner?" Rose said.

"I thought it'd be a nice favor," Fabrizo said. "I told Lucia I'd cook for her." He smiled wanly. "I didn't think it would be like this."

"Jack's been telling me to eat," Rose said.

"Well, I'll make something you can't resist," Fabrizo said.

…

Billy and Adam came home first. They trooped into the kitchen, shivering, faces red with cold. They noticed the smell immediately. Fabrizo was at the stove, stirring the contents of a large pot. "What is that?" Adam asked, shrugging out of his coat.

"Zuppa di pollo siciliana," Fabrizo answered.

"Zopa de pollo sicilana?" Adam said, mangling the words.

"Zuppa di pollo siciliana," Fabrizo said slowly. "It's Sicilian chicken soup. I wanted to make something the girls could eat too."

"What's in it?" Billy asked.

"Chicken, onions, peppers, parsley, garlic, celery, ditalini pasta, there's a lot of things in it," Fabrizo said.

"That's where you're from, right? Sicily?" Billy said.

"Si." Fabrizo grinned at their blank looks. "Yes."

"And you really know both languages," Adam said.

"Mostly," Fabrizo said. "Italian's easier. More familiar, you know? I've been teaching Rosa. She was teaching me French."

"She knows French?" Adam said.

"She's good with words," Fabrizo replied. "Jack knows a little of both. Lucia wanted to learn." He looked down into the soup. "I promised I'd teach her. And cook for her."

"I'm sure she'll like that," Billy said.

….

"He's still in jail," Tom said. "Harry's sticking to his word. The story's gotten around a little, but I don't think most people really know what happened. Aside from the deputies, I doubt people even realize he's there."

"Too bad it can't stay that way," Fabrizo said.

"What makes you say that?" Tom asked.

"I come from a small town like this," Fabrizo replied. "I know the damage stories can do."

"We're a little more progressive here," Tom said.

"Are you?" Fabrizo countered.

Adam and Billy exchanged looks. They sat at the table. Tom stood by the stove, Fabrizo opposite him. Jack leaned against the wall, in the middle. Billy glanced at Jack. He seemed to be staring off into space. "No, we're not," Jack said. "We can talk about what it'll be like once word gets out, but we can't really know." He lifted his eyes. "All I care about is seeing him get what he deserved, and that he can't hurt anyone else. I'll do whatever it takes to make that happen."

"It's not for you to do, Jack," Fabrizo said.

"I'm not gonna do anything crazy," Jack said. "Don't worry."

"Is there any more news?" Adam asked.

"Not really," Tom said. "Harry's still taking before the judge on Monday. We'll know more after that."

"You think Judge Fredrickson will really keep him locked up?" Billy said. "He's not from around here."

"He committed a crime here," Adam pointed out. "Doesn't matter where he's from."

"Sure it does," Fabrizo said. "If he were me, we wouldn't be talking like this. We'd know." There was a heavy silence. Everyone but Jack avoided his eyes. "If he were one of us, maybe we wouldn't be sure," Fabrizo went on. "But we'd be confident."

"So he's got money," Billy said. "So—"

"It's not just the money," Fabrizo said. "That's part of it. A big part, but it's not everything." He looked around, feeling he'd said too much. "I'll be outside."

"It's freezing," Tom said.

"I know."

When he was gone Jack said, "You know he's right."

Tom studied the table. "People were saying things today."

"Who? What kind of things?" Adam asked.

"About Fabrizo and Lucy," Tom said. "Mostly the deputies. No-one else knows."

"About them being together?" Billy said.

Tom nodded. "And us allowing it."

"What do _you_ think?" Jack asked.

"We know he loves her," Tom said. "And she cares for him."

"That's not what I'm asking," Jack said.

"Jack-"

"You know what I'm asking," Jack pressed. "You aren't going to keep them apart over some gossip, are you?"

"Does it look like we are?" Billy said. "He's here, isn't he?"

"Things change," Jack said. "You're gonna say it's not my business, but he's one of my best friends, and I've known you all a long time. I left. I know. I've done something…but they could really be happy together," Jack finished.

"We've watched our sister be miserable long enough," Tom said. "We won't be the cause of it."

….

"How're you feeling?" Fabrizo asked. He sat down next to Lucy's bed. She was sitting up, soup bowl in hand. "Much better," she said. She spoke with the thick voice of a heavy cold. "Your soup helped."

"I was hoping it would."

"This is my second bowl," she said.

"I'll make something else tomorrow," he promised.

"Where did you get the ingredients?"

"I brought them from home," Fabrizo replied. "You don't keep them in your kitchen."

Lucy laughed. "No, we don't. I doubt we've ever cooked anything quite like this." She put the bowl on the table and held out her hand for him to take. "Do you still want to show me Italy?"

"Do you still want to go?"

"Yes," Lucy said. "Si. That's right, isn't it?"

"That's right, Lucia." He leaned closer. "I'll take you." He hesitated. "But we'd have to be…"

"Married?" she said.

He grinned nervously. "Si. Sposato."

"Sposato," Lucy repeated.

"You speak it well."

"Maybe I'll learn," she said.

Their hands were clasped. Fabrizo looked into her eyes. "Lucia-" He wanted to say it in English, but the words wouldn't come. English was an ugly language, bumpy and coarse. Not like Italian. Italian was smooth and flowed like wine. "Ti amo. Sposami. Possiamo essere felici insieme." _I love you. Marry me. We can be happy together._

Lucy couldn't understand the words, and yet she knew what he was saying. "Yes," she said. "I will."

…

"One more spoonful," Jack said. Rose groaned. "C'mon, Petal, it's helping. The doctor's coming tomorrow. You don't want him to think I'm a bad nurse, do you?"

"Maybe I'm just a difficult patient." She scrunched her nose as the medicine went down. "I've never had a nurse like you before. They were always women in starched white uniforms who called me Miss."

"I call you Miss," he said with a lopsided smile.

"They didn't say it the way you do."

Rose smiled, and for a moment things were normal. There was a flirtatious crackle in the air; any other time a kiss would have followed. Jack wanted to kiss her, but he was afraid to. She hadn't stopped him earlier. She hadn't said a word about being touched, but he couldn't help feeling like he shouldn't unless asked.

Rose pulled the blanket up to her chin. "Are you cold?" he asked.

She nodded. "A little."

Jack felt her forehead. "You're a little hot."

"It hurts, Jack."

"What does, Petal?"

"Everything," she said.

He knew she was talking about more than her body. For now, that was the thing he could take care of. Nothing mattered if she slipped away from him. "Do you want me to get you something?" he asked.

"No. Will you lie here with me?"

Jack climbed into bed next to her. He wrapped his arms around her. "That good?"

"Mmm-hmm."

He pressed his lips to her hair. "You can sleep, Rose. You're safe."

With his arms around her, and his heartbeat under her ear, Rose could almost believe it. If only that was the whole problem. The certainty that everything that had happened was her fault, that not only had she caused it, but she deserved it, pressed down upon her. She fought it, but part of her kept insisting it would have been better if Cal had taken her back. If she'd let him. He might kill her, eventually, but at least everyone else would be safe.

….

"I can feel you thinking." Jack's voice was low. Rose looked out into the darkness. She couldn't remember waking up. Every breath sent a cold pain through her chest. It was like being stabbed with ice.

"You should go back to sleep," she said. The urge to cough was strong. "I'm fine."

"Try sitting up."

"What?" she said.

Jack turned the pillows so she was reclined against them, but her back was up. "You need to cough," he said. He lightly pressed a hand to her chest. "It hurts right here, doesn't it?"

"How do you know?"

"I can hear it," he said. "And I've been sick like that."

"You have. When?"

"A long time ago," he said. He gave her a fresh handkerchief. "It's easier if you cough. You'll get better faster."

"Why are you doing this, Jack?"

"Doing what?"

"Taking care of me," Rose said.

"How can you ask that?"

"After what I've caused—"

"No," Jack said, cutting her off. "Now, I want you to listen to me, Rose. This wasn't your fault. Alright? I love you, and I'm gonna do whatever I can to get you better. I'm not letting you go yet. It's not time. Whatever you might feel, fight it because you belong here, with me; we can't have our life together without you, Rose."

Rose tried to speak, but a coughing fit overtook her. She pitched forward, handkerchief pressed to her lips. Her body shook with each cough. She drew in a ragged breath. Each one hurt more than the last. Jack rubbed her back. "Let it out."

"I hate this," Rose gasped.

"Me too."

"You shouldn't be so close to me," she said. "You'll get sick."

"I'm not worried. Already had it, and I've got a strong system," Jack replied. "I can handle it."

She could only make out his shape in the dark. "You know, don't you?"

"Know what, Rose?"

"You know about the baby," she said in a small voice.

"I know," Jack said slowly. "They told me yesterday after…after I got here."

"I was waiting to tell you."

"We don't have to talk about it now," he said.

"I want to," Rose said. "Jack, I wasn't sure. I thought maybe, but I didn't know yet. I—I'd never been, at least I don't think so. When I was with Cal, things were never…never right, and I—" She closed her eyes, but the tears pushed through. She wrapped her arms around Jack, holding him with all her strength. "I was just thinking about surviving," she sobbed. "I didn't—I didn't think about—"

"You don't have to explain," Jack said. "I don't blame you. You're alive. I wouldn't have it any other way, Rose. We can have another one, eventually."

"I wanted that one," Rose said. "On the train I saw these children, and I thought about what ours would be like."

"I've thought about it too."

"I feel like I've ruined everything," she said. "Everyone's lives. I've hurt you all."

"Please, Rose, please don't think that way," Jack begged. "Knowing you have been the most wonderful experience of my life. You-I-There aren't words, Rose. I love you." He kissed her. "Don't leave me."


	25. Chapter 25

Judge Fredrickson peered down at Cal. He wore a deep frown. His white hair stood out from his head like a curly halo. Simon, the lawyer Harry rounded up for him, shuffled papers around on the defense table. They were mostly blank. He'd never tried a case before, and he wanted to look busy. Cal's face was stony, his dark eyes cold. Despite Harry's claims, he doubted any effort had been made to contact his lawyers. He hadn't been allowed to make a single phone call.

"These are very serious charges," Fredrickson said. "Do you understand everything you'd been accused of?"

"Your Honor, my client understands," Simon said, leaping to his feet. "And it is our intention to plead not guilty."

"We're only here to determine if there's enough evidence to take this matter further," Fredrickson said. "And I must say, I believe there is."

"But your Honor-"

"You'll get your chance, Simon," Fredrickson said, motioning for him to sit down. "I'm reluctant to bring the two young women into court, but unfortunately, I'll have to. I understand your positon, Mr. Nylund, but it can't be avoided."

Charlie Nylund, the county prosecutor, nodded. "I understand, your Honor."

Jack, Fabrizo, and Tom watched from the back of the room. All three wore grim expressions. It had taken a great deal of convincing to get Jack there. Rose finally persuaded him, arguing he should go for her sake. "Face him," she said. "I can't. I'm stuck here in bed, but you can go and show him we're not afraid." She was lying, and Jack knew it. She was still deeply afraid. So he went.

"I'm setting trial for one month from now," Fredrickson said. He banged his gavel. "Court adjourned."

The three of them remained motionless as Cal was led past, his hands cuffed in front of him. Harry held his arm. Simon trailed behind. Cal glared at them all, but he leaned toward  
Jack, as if he wanted to speak. Jack stared at him, unmoved.

"Well, that wasn't so bad," Tom said.

"The girls'll have to talk about what happened," Fabrizo said. "In front of everyone." He shook his head.

"We should've expected that," Tom said.

"Let's get back to the house," Jack said.

…..

As they walked, Fabrizo said, "I don't know if this is the right time, or if there is one now, but there's something I should tell you."

"What is it?" Jack asked.

Fabrizo's gaze was on Tom, who gave a slight tilt of his head, as if he knew what was coming. "I've asked Lucia to marry me," Fabrizo said.

"You did?" Jack said. He smiled. "Really?"

"What did she say?" Tom asked.

"She said yes," Fabrizo replied. "I didn't plan it. We were talking about the future, about visiting Sicily together, and it just happened."

"Well, I'm glad she's finally found someone," Tom said, clapping Fabrizo on the back.

"Do you mean that?" Fabrizo said. "We have your blessing?"

"Yes, I mean it," Tom said. "And you do. 'Course you should probably get married before our father gets back from Boston." Seeing Fabrizo's stricken look, he added, "I'm joking. Dad'll be just as pleased as I am."

"I should've spoken to him first," Fabrizo said. "Or you. I wasn't thinking."

"It's fine," Tom assured him. 'While he's gone, I'm in charge. Besides, I suspect Lucy wouldn't listen if she didn't like my response." He chuckled.

"When do you plan on having the wedding?" Jack asked.

"We haven't gotten that far yet," Fabrizo said. "Soon, I hope, but I don't know if anything can happen with all this going on."

"Why can't it?" Tom said. "There's no reason for us to stop living. Lucy's getting better, and the trail's a month away. We should wait for Rose to get better too," he added.

…

"How'd it go?" Adam asked, when they came in.

"Trail's in a month," Tom replied.

"Really? That soon?" Billy said.

"If they wait too long he'll get out of it," Jack said. "If he gets his lawyers here, he still might."

"You shouldn't talk that way," Tom said.

"I know," Jack said. "I wanna be confident things'll turn out right. I'm just worried he'll wiggle free, and only the girls will be punished for what he did."

"Well, if the law won't help-" Adam began. A shotgun lay on the table, with a cleaning cloth next to it. He licked it shut. "We could help ourselves."

"I don't want to hear that kind of talk either," Tom said firmly. "We can't take the ourselves out of the law, no matter what."

"You gotta admit, you'd like to," Jack said.

"Maybe I would," Tom said. "But we can't, and we won't. We're better than that."

"I know," Jack said. "It's just hard." He sighed. "Let's talk about something else. How're the girls?"

"Rose's asleep, and Lucy's ready to get out of bed," Billy said. "Though the Doc told her one more day."

"And he was wrong," Lucy said from the doorway. She was dressed, but her hair was loose, and she wore only thick socks on her feet. "I'm going crazy up there."

Fabrizo smiled. "You look much better," he said.

"Thank you. At least someone agrees with me," she said. "What are we talking about?" She turned to Fabrizo. "Did you tell them yet?"

"Tell us what?" Billy said.

"I told Tom and Jack," Fabrizo said.

Lucy looked at Tom. "And?" she said expectantly.

"And you have my blessing," Tom said.

"For what?" Adam asked.

Fabrizo took Lucy's hand. They exchanged grins. "Fabrizo's asked me to marry him," she announced. "And I accepted."

"What?" Billy said.

"Really?" Adam said.

"Don't tell me you don't approve," Lucy said.

"Would it stop you?" Billy asked jokingly.

"I doubt it," she said. "But I'd hate to think you didn't."

"We couldn't be happier for you," Adam said. "Really. We were just talking about this. At least something good's happening."

"I'm so glad to hear you say that," Lucy said.

"So am I," Fabrizo added. "I love Lucia, and knowing I have her family's approval matters a lot."

Lucy beamed up at him. "It seems wrong to be this happy now."

"No, it's not," Jack said. "You should be happy. You deserve it."

"Thank you, Jack," she said.

Their eyes met, and a silent exchange passed between them. The last remnants of their former relationship finally swept away for good.

…..

"How're you feeling?" Jack asked.

Rose was sitting up, her back against the pillows. "I feel rested," she said.

"Good." He kissed her palm.

"What happened today?"

"They're gonna try him," he said. "His lawyers aren't here. I think Harry has something to do with that."

"Do you think we'll win?"

"I hope so," Jack said. "Let's not talk about this now. I've got good news."

"What?"

"Fabrizo and Lucy are getting married."

"Are they really?" Rose said. "How wonderful!"

"He asked her a few days ago."

"How did her brothers take it?" she asked.

"Really well, actually. They seem happy about it."

"I hope everything works out for them," she said.

"I'm sure they'll be as happy as us," Jack said.

"Jack, when this is all over, what will we do?"

"I've been thinking about that," he said.

"Do you want to stay here?"

"We might not be able to," he said. "Once this gets out, people might not be so friendly."

"It's so absurd," Rose said. " _We_ didn't do anything."

"I know." He squeezed her hand. "We can take that trip we talked about. Get married in Paris."

"I'd like that." Rose paused. "Jack, I want to divorce him. Now."

"Alright. When you're well enough, we'll go talk to a lawyer, just like we planned.'

"I wish it were over already," she said.

"So do I. But they can't refuse to grant you a divorce now," Jack said. "Not after what he did."

"What if they can?" There was anxiety in her eyes. "He doesn't have to be three. His lawyers could stop it."

"His lawyers are gonna be too busy trying to get him out of jail," he said confidently. "They won't have time to worry about this." He gave her hand another squeeze. "It's past lunch time. Are you hungry?"

"Yes."

"Then I'll bring you something," he said.

"I wish I could eat downstairs." Her words were punctuated by a short, painful cough. She pitched forward, handkerchief to her mouth. Jack rubbed her back. "Keep coughing," he said. "That's the way to get better."

Rose wiped her eyes. "It's like ripping something out of my throat," she said. "I keep expecting to see blood."

Her word alarmed Jack more than he let on. "That won't happen," he said. "You're a lot better now, Rose. Another week, and you'll be fine."

She was recovering well, more quickly than he expected, but he knew the severity of her illness. If they weren't careful, it could get much worse.

"I'll bring you some lunch, and you can take your medicine," Jack said.

"I suppose I have to take a nap afterwards."

"If you feel tired," he said.

"I don't." She sighed. "I feel like getting up. Are you sure I can't?"

"I'm sure, Rose. Trust me. Please?"

…..

"I want to speak to my lawyer!" Cal ordered. He stood at the edge of his cell, face pressed against the bars. "I demand a phone call!"

"You'll get one as soon as I can arrange it," Harry said.

"Now!"

"Pitching a fit won't help your situation," Harry said. "The closest phone's down the street. I can't just take a prisoner over there in the middle of the day, people everywhere. It wouldn't be right."

"I am not a prisoner."

"That's where you're wrong," Harry said. "For the time being, you're a prisoner. You're to be held here, in jail, until trial."

"This is absurd," Cal said, his eyes flashing. "You have to right to keep me here."

"Legally, we do. You've committed some very serious crimes. It's our job to see justice is done."

"Justice?" Cal spat. "What about _my_ justice?"

"Seems to me you've already gotten that on your own. It's why you're here."

Cal glared at him. "I don't know what you're talking about," he said. "I came for my wife."

"Oh, we know that. Dead or alive, right?"

"I never touched her," Cal said.

"Then who did?" Harry asked.

"Maybe it was her lover."

"Uh-huh. And Jack chased her and Lucy into the woods too?" Harry said. "You just happened to be caught standing over them, your gun in Rose's hand?"

"I came here to take her home."

"Doesn't look like she wanted to go," Harry said. "Why is that? Why would a woman choose to live with Jack when she could be living in ease and luxury? He's a nice guy, but it seems like an easy choice. That's what I'm having trouble with. What made her go off with him? You know what I think," Harry went on. "I think you know why. I think you had something to do with it."

"You'll never prove that."

"Maybe not. Jack doesn't think we will," Harry agreed. "He was such an optimist when I knew him, always sure things would work out. Maybe he knows something I don't. Maybe she's told him things."

"My wife has a very active imagination," Cal said. "It's a problem."

"I'm sure it is." Harry looked into his eyes. "I don't know or particularly care who you are," he said quietly. "You might scare some people, and you might be a real tough fella where you're from, but not here, you understand? I aim to see the law upheld."

"How noble," Cal sneered.

….

Rose searched the bed for a clean handkerchief, but all she found were old ones Jack missed when he cleaned the room. She groped for the oil lamp on the bedside table and turned it up higher. It amazed her how one quick turn of the knob could take the room from semi-darkness to fully lit. All her life she'd used gas and electric lights. Candles were for decorative purposes only. Oil lamps were something she only read about in books.

The lunch dishes had been taken away. She saw medicine bottles and a spoon, but that was all. She gripped the edge of the table as another coughing fit seized her. Rose didn't remember falling asleep. She blinked, and suddenly she was alone, gasping for breath.

She felt something break loose in her chest. There was a final cough, and it was in her mouth. She looked around for a place to spit. She couldn't bring herself to use the floor. Rose hurried over to the window and stuck her head out.

The blast of air was so cold she couldn't feel it at fist. She gulped it down, momentarily soothed by it. The night was pitch black. Finally, shivering, Rose closed the window.

Her stomach rumbled. Lunch felt like a distant memory. Where was Jack? He must have left while she was asleep. For a moment, Rose was angry at waking up alone. He should be there. "No, that's not fair," she told herself. "He's done enough."

Lady watched her from the bed, chin resting on her paws. "Shall we go downstairs?" Rose said. Lady lifted her head. "Come with me?" Rose said, scratching the dog's ears. Her tail wagged. Rose smiled. "Come on them."

Lady's nails clicked on the wood floor, but Rose's steps were silent. They moved down the hall. For the first time, Rose saw the house clearly. It was about as old as theirs and well-taken care of.

The kitchen door was ajar. She saw a sliver of light; voices carried through.

"I thought she was getting better?" Fabrizo said.

"She is," Jack said. "For now."

"What's that mean?"

"I'm worried," Jack answered. "Her coughing. It doesn't sound good. It reminds me of the time I had pneumonia as a kid."

"You think it'll get that bad?"

"I don't know," Jack said. "God, I hope not."

"Rosa will be fine," Fabrizo said reassuringly. "She's a strong girl."

Jack smiled. "She is, isn't she? Maybe I'm underestimating her."

"You are."

"What about you and Lucy?" Jack asked. "Still set on getting married here?"

Fabrizo nodded. "As soon as we can. I'd like to do it in Italy, but neither of us wants to wait that long, and this way, her family can be there too."

"What about yours?"

Fabrizo shrugged. "Mine probably doesn't want to see me," he said. "If I show up unmarried, they'll probably insist I marry someone else they've picked out."

"You're never going to see them again?"

"I will," Fabrizo said. "I miss them. But if Lucia is my wife, they'll treat her better. Otherwise, she'll just be some American girl I've brought with me. They'll question her. You know. You remember what Sicily was like," he added.

"Yeah, I do. Strict place."

Fabrizo laughed. "The strictest."

It was at that moment Lady grew tired of waiting. She padded into the kitchen. "What are you doing down here, girl?" Jack said. He bent down to pet her. "Why aren't you upstairs with Rose?" At the mention of Rose's name she turned, looking for her. She let out a curious bark.

"What is it?" Fabrizo said.

Rose stepped forward. "It's only me."

"Rose." There was a hint of reproach in Jack's voice. "What are you doing up?"

"I woke up. I was hungry," she explained. "You weren't there, so I thought I'd come down and look for some dinner."

"You shouldn't be out of bed," Jack said.

"I feel alright." As if to prove her wrong, a wave of coughing hit as soon as the words were out. Rose held her hands over her mouth. Her body shook.

"Here," Jack said, offering her a clean handkerchief. He put an arm around her shoulders.

"Thank you."

"You shouldn't be up," he said.

"Jack, I'm so tired of being in bed," Rose said.

"He's right, Rosa," Fabrizo said.

"You too?" Rose said wearily.

"We only want you to get well," Fabrizo said.

"I know," Rose said. She coughed again.

Jack touched her face. Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes glassy. A fine layer of perspiration covered her skin. "Are you cold?" he asked.

"No," Rose answered. "I'm quite warm, actually."

He pressed his wrist to her cheek. "You feel warm," he said. "Almost hot."

"I don't feel feverish," she insisted. "Really, Jack, I don't feel unwell. No more than…." She leaned against him, trailing off.

"Let's get you back to bed," Jack suggested. He scooped her up in his arms.

"You need anything?" Fabrizo asked.

'Would you bring up some water and the thermometer?"

"Sure," Fabrizo replied.

"Jack, I'm fine," Rose said.

"You're gonna be," Jack said.

….

Her temperature was 101. Jack sat next to her bed for the rest of the night. He placed damp clothes on her neck and forehead, dunking them in a bowl of water to keep them fresh. Rose slept fitfully. A few times she woke herself up coughing. Jack checked for blood each time. By dawn, her temperature hovered at 99, and she slept soundly. Jack watched, alert for any changes.


	26. Chapter 26

Rose improved slowly. There were no more scares, and two weeks later she was pronounced well enough to go home. Even Jack couldn't argue with the diagnosis. Her fever was gone, and her color was healthy. She was bursting with energy and ate voraciously. The bruises had faded. Her hair was shiny, her curls bouncy. She grew more restless every day, pleading with Jack for a chance to get out of bed.

Finally, he couldn't refuse her anymore. "How'd you like to go home today?" he asked.

Her eyes lit up. "Jack, are you serious?" Rose broke into a wide grin. "Do you mean it?"

"Yeah." He nodded. "The doctor said you can, so why keep waiting? It's as warm as it's gonna get this time of year. The sun's out. It's a good day for a walk."

"I knew he said I could, but I didn't expect you to agree so easily." Excitement coarsed through her. She threw back the blankets and moved to hop out of bed. "How soon can we leave?"

"I was thinking we'd go after breakfast," Jack replied. "You've still gotta eat."

"Can I eat downstairs?"

"I don't see why not," he said. He took her hand and helped her to her feet.

"It feels so good to stand up. I've missed it so much. I feel ready to take on another renovation project," she added, with a laugh.

"Not so fast, Rose. You can't overdo it, or you'll get sick all over again," Jack cautioned.

Rose spoke in an exaggerated deep voice. "Yes, I know. Strain. Trauma. Long term effects." In her normal voice, she said, "I'll be careful, Jack." She squeezed his hand. "But I'm still going to enjoy myself." She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him. "I couldn't have survived this without you," she whispered.

"You could've," he said. He kissed her slowly, fighting the urge to pull her closer. She was there, but he missed her so much. Jack was still afraid she would slip away. She was safe and in good spirits again, but he saw how she started at certain noises, how her dreams turned to nightmares, and he knew she still had a long way to go.

...

Breakfast was just starting when they came downstairs. "Rose," Lucy said, coming over to greet her. She took Rose's hands. "Jack said you'd be getting up."

"He couldn't fight me anymore," Rose laughed. "And not a day too soon. I couldn't stay in bed another minute. It was torture, just lying there with nothing to do."

"I know how you felt," Lucy said. "It drove me crazy too."

"You look well," Rose said. "Lovely, really." She squeezed Lucy's hands. "I'm glad to see you like this."

"I'm glad to see you too," They shared a brief look, and then Lucy said, "Why don't you take Fabrizo's chair? He's not here this morning."

"Where is he?" Rose asked.

"He's been staying home most nights," Jack said. "Now that Lucy's recovered, he didn't think he should be here so much. And someone needed to be watching the house."

"Watching it against what?" Rose said. "We're the only people for a few miles, aren't we?"

Jack wondered if he'd made a mistake with his word choice. He searched her eyes for distress, for a sign she was thinking of Cal, but he saw nothing. Was she hiding her fears, or were they simply not there?

"We're the only ones," he said. "But the animals need to be looked after." He shrugged. "You never know."

"Of course. Why didn't I think of that?" she said.

Jack touched her hand, intending to reassure her. Rose smiled, but there was a flicker in her eyes. It was so quick he almost missed it.

"So, you're leaving us?" Tom said.

"Yes, I'm afraid so," Rose answered. "I'm sorry it's so sudden, after everything you've done for us, but I can't give Jack a chance to change his mind." She chuckled, and it went around the table.

"I'm sure you're anxious to get home," Billy said. "I would be."

"We are," Jack agreed.

"I want to thank you for everything you've done," Rose said warmly. "I don't know how to repay you, or if I ever can, but-"

"There's no need for that," Tom said.

"But there is," Rose argued. "If you hadn't helped, I would have died." Jack pressed down on her hand. She glanced at him. "I caused you so much trouble," she said. "And I want to make up for it. Somehow."

"You don't have to do that," Tom said.

"We're glad to help," Adam added.

"But Lucy-" Rose began.

"I'm fine," Lucy said firmly. "What we experienced was horrible, but some good came out of it. I know you now, and I'm marrying Fabrizo. I wouldn't change that for anything. I probably wouldn't even have met him if not for you," she added.

"Me?" Rose said. "I didn't do anytbing."

"You brought Jack back here," Lucy said. "And he brought Fabrizo. See?"

Rose nodded. "I believe I do."

...

If you looked at the house you couldn't tell anything had happened. All the damage had been cleared away or repaired. The kitchen was warm, and the air was ful of delicious smells. Fabrizo stood at the counter, knife in hand. He beamed when he saw them. "I didn't expect you so early."

"Rose was eager to get home," Jack explained.

Fabrizo held out his arms. "Rosa!"

"Fabrizo!" She hugged him tightly. "It's wonderful to see you, especially like this. It feels like years since I was home."

"I know what you mean," Fabrizo said. "I was getting to miss the place too. I miss Lucia more, though," he added with a laugh.

"I'm so happy for you," Rose said. "I know I've already told you, but it bears repeating."

"Thank you, Rosa."

"Whatcha making?" Jack asked. He leaned over one of the simmering pots. "Smells great, whatever it is,"

"I know it does," Fabrizo said. "Stay out of that. It won't be ready for a few hours, and it doesn't need any help from you."

"What about me? I can help," Rose offered.

"Do you feel up to it?" Fabrizo asked.

"I feel more than up to it," Rose replied. "I _need_ to do something useful. The past few weeks have been worse than all my years as a coddled princess." As if to prove her point, she grabbed an apron and tied it around her waist. "So, what are we making?"

"-" Fabrizo said. "In honor of your homecoming." He gave her a - and the knife. "You can dice this."

"What about me?" Jack said.

"You can stay out of the way," Fabrizo said good-naturedly.

"Hey, I can be plenty helpful," Jack said.

"Of course you can," Rose said. She tilted her head up for his kiss. "But not at this," she added.

"Fine. I'll go unpack our things," Jack said. "I'll stay out of the way. I'd hate to ruin the focus of a culinary artist like Fabrizo." He gave a slight bow and disappeared into the hallway. Lady settled under the table, chin on her paws.

"It truly does feel good to be home," Rose said.

"This place is home, isn't it?" Fabrizo said.

"It is for Jack and me. Isn't it for you?"

"I suppose so," Fabrizo said. His dark eyes were thoughtful. "I've been thinking about leaving."

"Permanently?" Rose arched an eyebrow.

"I don't know," he replied. "I wamt to take Lucia to Italy. We've talked about traveling, and with the way things are going, leaving might be best, at least for a while."

Rose kept her back to him. "How are things going?" she asked, careful to keep her tone even.

"What've you heard?"

"Nothing," she said. "No-one's told me anything since right after it happened."

"He's still in jail. If that makes you feel any better."

"It helps," she said. "What else?" 

"His lawyers finally made it up here last week. They're working on a way to get him out, or so the sheriff says," Fabrizo replied. "It-They might succeed." He watched Rose for a reaction, but her pose didn't change. It was as if he were talking about a stranger, not the man who had tormented her. "Maybe you should ask Jack," he said.

"Jack won't tell me. He thinks he's protecting me," Rose said. "But I need to know."

Jack wouldn't like this. Fabrizo knew how much he worried about Rose. If he thought keeping her away from things that might upset her was best, who was he to question that? But Rose was also a grown woman, and this concerned her too. Possibly her more than anyone else. She had a right to know.

"Drop these in that pot," he instructed. "There are more rumors," he added.

"About Jack and me?"

"About all of us," he said. "But mostly you two."

"I trust they aren't very nice?"

"No," Fabrizo answered. "They aren't."

"Well, let's hear them." Rose wiped her hands on a tea towel. "What have we done?"

"One story is that you helped Jack rob Cal before you left. That's why you came back here. To hide."

"I should've expected that," she said. "What else?" 

"Rosa, are you sure you want to hear this?"

"I need to know," she said again. "Please."

But Jack's return put an end to the discussion. "I ran outta stuff to do upstairs," he said. "I promise not to interrupt the masterpiece underway." He kissed the top of Rose's head. She smiled and squeezed his hand. "You're no bother," she said.

"You sure?" Jack said. "Fabrizo banished me earlier."

"I like having you here," Rose said. "I'm unbanishing you." She put her face against his chest. "Stay."

...

Rose held up a dress. "What do you think of this?"

"It's nice," Jack answered. He was sprawled across the bed, sketchpad next to him.

"It's Lucy's color," she said. She pressed her lips together and studied the dress. "With some alterations, I think it would suit her rather well, don't you?"

"Sure. But why?"

"I've been trying to figure out a way to repay the McCulloughs, and I think I've come up with something. A start, at least," she explained. "I'm going to give Lucy a wedding dress."

"That's a nice idea," Jack said. "But you don't hafta do anything. They know how grateful we are."

"Of course I have to do something. Jack, how can I not? Nothing will make up for how I've disrupted their lives, but I can try. Nothing will repay them for my life."

Jack pushed his sketchpad to the floor. "C'mere," he said. He wrapped his arms around her. His hand rested under her chin, his thumb against her cheek. "No-one blames you for anything," he said. "You know that, don't you, Rose?"

"I blame me."

"I wish you wouldn't," he said. He caressed her cheek with his thumb. The tender, familiar gesture brought tears to her eyes. She tried to speak, but a lump blocked her throat. She pressed her hand against the back of his neck, pulling him closer. Their kiss was slow but intense.

They lay facing each other, their hands tentatively exploring. It had only been a few weeks, but it felt like so much longer. A lifetime of experiences separated this time from the last.

Rose unbuttoned his shirt. She pushed it back, and he shrugged it off. She kissed his neck; her fingertips stroked his chest, moving down his belly. Jack's breathing quickened. He unhooked her dress and groaned when his hands met the next later of fabric. There was always _something_ between them.

Rose laughed. He thought it was the most wonderful sound he had ever heard. She pulled her dress over her head and shook out her curls. A grin played about her lips. When she spoke, her voice was serious. "Do you want me, Jack?"

"I want you."

She put an arm around him, kissing him deeply. His hands moved across her, searching for a way to remove the rest of her clothes. He couldn't remember how they worked. His mind was blank, wiped clean of everything but his desire for her. It burned through him.

Jack felt her unbutton his pants, and he gasped as her hand kept going. "Rose."

"Make love to me, Jack," she whispered.

He looked into her eyes and saw the same desire burning in her. There were so many things he wanted to say, but no words could ever be enough. Jack knew she felt the same way. They seemed to read each other's thoughts, along with their bodies.

Time lost meaning. The lamp burned low, and the sun began to rise, but they didn't notice. Once became twice became a challenge to find out how many times Jack could make her tremble and cling to him, his name a sigh in her throat.

...

Lucy was just finishing up her shopping when she heard it. At first she didn't know what they were talking about. The voices came from around the corner, but she recognized them immediately. Mary Sterne and Pamela Richards. She wasn't surprised. They were always gossiping about someone, whether there was a story to tell or not. She picked up her basket, intending to leave, but then a name stuck out. Hers.

"Can you believe it?" Mary said.

"I expected better of her," Pamela sniffed. "But then again, what _can_ you expecct from a girl who's been allowed to run wild all her life?"

Lucy stiffened. How dare they! She had never run wild. Her upbringing was as respectable as anyone else's. Probably more so, with all her brothers around to keep her in line.

"And you know how she ran after Jack," Mary added. "That was just trouble waiting to happen. It's a good thing he left when he did."

Lucy's cheeks burned with indignation. No-one had ever spoken about her this way.

Or had they? Was it possible her reputation wasn't quite what she thought it was?

But that couldn't be. She'd hardly done anything before now. What was there to talk about?

"It's a shame they way she and that Italian fellow are carrying on," Pamela remarked. "He stayed with her family for weeks, just like they were married."

 _No, he didn't!_ Lucy almost yelled. She bit her lip to keep the words from flying out. _You don't know anything._

"Well, he's Jack's friend," Mary said. "He brought him back from wherever he was, along with that girl he's been calling his wife."

"She's not?"

"Oh no," Mary said gleefully. "She's already married. She left a rich husband back east. Fabulously rich," she added, with a small sigh. "He came after her, and that's how it got out."

"So, it's true?" Pamela said. "There was some kind of trouble over there?" She leaned closer, eager for the details. "What happened?"

"I don'r know exactly," Mary admitted. "But apparently, there was an awful fight. The girl was hurt, and her husband's in jail."

"No!" Pamela gasped.

Mary nodded. "The sheriff arrested him. According to my father, the trial's due to start any day now, but they'e trying to keep it quiet."

"What some girls will go," Pamela said, shaking her head. "I never thought Jack was the type to go for that."

Lucy couldn't stand it any longer. She slammed her basket down, abandoning it and its contents, and flounced out the door, chin in the air.

...

Jack's head rested on her shoulder; he was cradled in her arms. His eyes were half-open. A dreamy haze had settled over him. He could've slept, but he didn't want to. He enjoyed this feeling too much.

Rose stroked his hair, lost in a place of her own, somewhere between sleeping and waking. It was hard to imagine her life was real, that she could go from the depths of misery to utter happiness, and that she could nearly lose it all, only to survive at the last moment.

It wasn't all perfect, though. She faced Cal again each time she closed her eyes, every time she was startled by something, and sometimes, for no discernible reason at all. Her heart raced, and her throat went dry, and panic set in. Soon, she would have to face him in person. She would have to look into his eyes and describe the things he'd done, all in front of a crowd. A roomful of strangers would hear the intimate details of her life. She had to make them believe her. Just thinking about it put knots in her stomach. Rose wished she could get it over with. She wished she could just blink her eyes and find herself at the end of the trial. She wasn't sure she even cared about the verdict anymore. It wasn't likely Cal would remain in jail much longer. Why hope? It was enough she was sage, and that at least a few people believed her, no matter what anyone else might say.

...

Milton Vaughn was an imposing man. He wore his steel-grey hair combed back to give the illusion of more. His shoes were always freshly polished, and his suits were always immaculate. He had his own tailor, a luxury he'd always insisted on, even before he came chief counsel to some of the wealthiest families in the Northeast. He believed the cut of his suits made his fortune as much as his legal prowess. Milton knew how important style and image were to men like Cal. Men like that wanted someone they could see themselves in-or imagine they did.

"This is absolutely ridiculous," Milton said. "There is no reason for my client to be here." He stood across from Harry, who sat at his desk, idly playing with a pencil.

"Your client," Harry said. "Is being held for trial until next week. The judge already ruled on it. We've been over this."

"I don't care what you say. This supposed ruling will not stand." Milton rapped his knuckles on the table for emphasis. "My client poses no threat."

"The women he attacked would disagree," Harry replied. "And with his money, he can run anywhere once he's out. No, he stays here."

Cal scowled through the bars. This was taking far longer than he anticipated. What was he paying Milton for if he couldn't manage this simple task? If he stayed away much longer, people would talk. The gossip columnists were probably already speculating. Lovejoy would feed them some story or other, but it wouldn't hold forever.

Cal leaned against the bars, his hands gently encirclng them. Just the way he'd hold Rose's neck, once he got out. And he _would_ get out. It was only a matter of time.


	27. Chapter 27

They didn't talk about Cal or the trial during the next week. Jack tried to bring it up a few times, just to see how Rose was feeling, but she brushed him off with smiles and cheerful comments about other things. Fabrizo was equally silent on the subject, but Jack figured he and Lucy were discussing it during their walks. In fact, they were avoiding it as well. Since the incident in town, Lucy hadn't spoken about anything connected with what happened. Like Rose, she just wanted it over and done with.

Milton continued to fight, but his efforts were fruitless. Cal remained in jail, silently fuming, and Harry remained somewhat amused by the spectacle Milton presented every day. Mostly, though, he just wanted the both of them to leave. He wished none of this had ever been brought into his town. He wished Jack had stayed wherever he was, keeping Rose and all the demons that followed her with him.

The day before the trial began was just like any other, but everyone felt a change in the air. Cal sat a little straighter on his cot. He wore a serene expression. When Milton arrived, he dismissed him. "There's no need," Cal said. "Tomorrow this will all be over."

"This charade could go on for several days, weeks even," Milton argued. "Why do you suddenly want to go through that?"

"Because I know it won't last that long," Cal replied, with a satisfied smile.

Milton eyed him curiously. "Is there something you haven't told me?"

"I've told you everything. It's just, I realized my wife will never testify against me. She can't."

"The other side doesn't think so," Milton said. "What makes you so sure?" 

"I just know. She'll never manage it."

...

In fact, Rose was worrying about that very thing, though she did her best to hide it from Jack. He tried not to hover around her, and he actually managed to spend most of the day on his own, either tending to things outside or drawing. It felt good to just sit with his sketchbook and draw the scenes playing in his mind. He drew the two of them in happier times; he drew the future. He started, but didn't finish, a sketch of Lucy for Fabrizo.

Jack found Rose in the kitchen. The table was set for two. "Fabrizo's eating with Lucy tonight," she explained. "I hope you don't mind eating my cooking."

"Course I don't mind." He kissed her. "It'll be great."

"I wouldn't be too sure about that." She smiled. "I didn't try anything too diffiuclt, though."

They talked about everything except what was weighing on their minds. Rose was cheerful, and she didn't let the conversation lag once. She also didn't let Jack talk much. Doing so would've meant risking question she didn't want to answer.

...

"I'll walk you home," Lucy offered.

"You don't have to do that," Fabrizo said. "It's getting dark."

"So? I know the way." She looped her arm through his. "Probably much better than you," she added with a grin.

They set off into the gathering dusk. The cold pressed in on them. Lucy held tighter to his arm. "It'll be bad tonight," she predicted.

"Worse than now?"

She nodded. "It's gonna be like a blizzard without the snow."

"Maybe you should go back home," he said. "I can make it the rest of the way."

"It's just cold," she replied. "I'll be fine."

"I don't want anything happening to you, Lucia."

"It won't. There's nothing to worry about," she said, giving his arm a squeeze.

"Maybe not tonight. No, I'm sorry," he added. "I shouldn't have said that."

"You're worried about tomorrow. So am I. I wish we didn't have to go through with it."

"You don't," he said. "You could always-"

"I can't do that. How could you even say that?"

"I'd say it to Rosa too," he replied. "I'm sure Jack would tell her the same thing. We don't want you hurt."

"That's why we have to do this," Lucy said. "People have to know the truth. They've made up plenty of their own stories already, but now we'll get to tell ours."

"You've been hearing stories?"

"Just a few, when I go into town," she said. "I haven't been going lately."

"Neither have we," Fabrizo said. "I don't want to hear it. I don't care so much what they say about me, but-"

"I care."

He kissed her hair. "I love you, you know that?"

"Of course I know. I love you too. That's what matters."

...

Rose felt sick. Her stomach churned, and she feared the few bites of breakfast she'd managed to get down would come back up at any moment. Jack squeezed her hand as the courthouse came into view. She tried to give him a smile, but her lips only twitched. "You don't have to do this," he said.

"Of course I do."

"We can go home," he offered. "Let this go however it's gonna. We can leave town today."

"He'd find us, Jack," she said. "And it would just the same thing all over again." Her eyes were weary.

Jack put an arm around her waist. He pulled her closer, his hand on her cheek. "You can divorce him now. We have the money, remember? You can do that just as easily from Paris."

This time Rose was able to smile. "It's a lovely idea."

"But?"

"But I have to do this first," she said. "If not for me, then for Lucy and you and everyone else his actions have hurt." It was all she could do not to say "my" instead of "his." Jack saw it in her eyes. "You haven't done anything, Rose," he said. "No matter what anyone says."

"I know."

He kissed her. "I'll be with you the whole time."

Fabrizo and Lucy were already inside, along with all three of her brothers. They sat in a line in the first row. Outside, things were quiet; it seemed like a typical day, but inside the main courtroom, a drama was already unfolding. The spectactors' gallery was nearly full, with locals taking up all the seats that didn't have reporters in them. Rose sucked in her breath. She stood, frozen, just inside the door. "Jack?" she said in a small voice.

"It's alright," he assured her.

At the front of the room, sat Cal. He turned in his chair, as if he knew she was there. His eyes met hers, and he smirked. Rose's hand turned to ice in Jack's.

"Look at me, Rose," Jack said, touching her face. "If you wanna leave, we will. Right now."

Rose felt Cal's stare. It was a pair of hands gripping her, his fingers cutting into her skin. Just like they always did. She took a breath and made her decision. "No, Jack," she said. "We have to stay."

"Alright."

Jack glared at Cal as they took their seats next to Fabrizo and the others. Cal's smirk didn't waver.

"Why are there so many people here?" Jack said, annoyed.

"His lawyer got the word out," Tom replied. "At least, that's we heard."

"How nice," Jack said drily. He put his arm around Rose and gave her a reassuring squeeze. She took his hand, lacing their fingers together. "I should've known this would happen," she said. "I just thought he'd want to keep things quiet as long as possible."

Milton had indeed alerted the press. When Cal announced his intention to stop fighting the case until the trial, he decided a new strategy was necessary. He had no illiusions about Cal's guilt, and in fact this wasn't the first legal trouble involving a woman he'd been sent to pull him out of, but guilt was irrelevant. The true battle would be fought in the court of public opinion, a place where even Cal could look sympathetic, if presented correctly.

It wasn't difficult to get representatives from the national papers. Some of the regional papers followed once they found out what was happening. Of course, this meant everyone now knew. The fact that _something_ was deeply amiss in Cal's life wasn't such a surprise to his friends, though most of his family ignored or denied any knowledge of it. Rose had been gone for months, most people reasoned. Something like this was bound to be the cause.

Ruth also knew. Like his parents and closest friends, she declared her astonishment and outrage at the situation, but part of her knew there was something to the claims. She just didn't want to see it; she'd never wanted to see it. Looking away, and telling herself Rose could handle it, was so much easier.

She stayed in Philadelphia and ignored the journalists who came to the house.

Rose ducked her head as flashbulbs went off around them. Jack held her tighter, leaning over her to block the cameras. Lucy kept her back to them. Chin up, she projected defiance. Fabrizo held her hand. Her brothers sat in a row on the end of the bench, silently daring anyone to come closer.

A hush fell over the room as the judge entered.

...

The morning was taken up the prosecution. Charlie made his case eloquently, pacing up and down the room. To the amazement of some of the more prominent reporters, he treated the case with dignity, as though it were a high-profile matter and not, as so many of them dismissively referred to it, a marital dispute.

Rose heard almost nothing of his arguments. All that mattered was, eventually, possibly before the day ended, she would be in front of the room, explaining what happened. She didn't eat during the lunch recess. Jack tried to get her to have a bite of _something_ , but her stomach wouldn't allow it.

Lucy moved her food around her plate more than she actually ate it, but handling the fork gave the impression of an appetite, and she was left alone. She caught Rose's eye across the table, and they shared a look. The diner overflowed, its usual lunchtime customers mingling with the trial spectators, and conversation was nearly impossible. It didn't matter. A look said more than words could have at that moment.

They kept up a brisk pace on their way back. Lucy and Rose walked in the middle, with two of the men on either side of them. They were nearly to the courthouse steps when a handful of photographers leapt out of the bushes. Jack pulled Rose under his coat with one arm; with the other, he shoved the nearest cameras away They hurried inside. Lucy and Fabrizo followed close behind. Her brothers remained outside to deal with the unwanted guests.

Lucy's hand shook with fury. "How can they do that?" she said disgustedly. "They don't have the right!"

"They think they do," Fabrizo said, his mouth thin with anger. He put his arm around her waist. "It's just something they write about. They don't care." He had to choose his words carefully, his emotions threatening to overcome his grasp of English.

"It's disgraceful," Lucy said.

"I know."

"It's worse than I thought it would be," she added. "I knew people were talking. I heard them, but this-" She shook her head. "I never imagined this."

"You shouldn't be going through this," Fabrizo said. "Neither of you." They looked toward Rose. She was huddled against Jack.

"We'll get through it," Lucy said.

...

Jack thought he couldn't get any angrier, but when Milton stood up and began to speak, he knew he'd been mistaken; he could always be angrier. It washed over him. He held Rose close, shielding her from Cal's view with his body. It didn't matter. She still heard everything. He couldn't stop that.

"My client is a prominent businessman and a devoted husband," Milton said. "He is innoccent of the outrageous charges against him." He paused and turned, so he was facing the judge on one side and the crowd on the other. "Marriage isn't easy, and perhaps some people simply aren't suited for it. Mrs. Hockley appears to be one of those people."

Rose flinched at the name. Jack glanced at her. "You alright?" he whispered. She nodded.

"I'm not in the habit of defaming women's characters," Milton went on. "But the truth must be told. This young woman deceived my client. She ran away from the life and home he provided for her and took up with an unscrupulous young man. She allowed her friends and family to believe her disappearance to be the result of force, that harm had befallen her. Her own mother thought her dead." He paused again, pleased when a murmur went through the crowd.

"She will hardly rejoice at finding her daughter alive," he continued. "Considering the situation she's been living in." Here, he turned and looked at Rose, who met his stare. "Wed to another man but living with not one, but two others," Milton proclaimed. "What are we to make of this?" The sound of pencils on paper could be heard. "And when her husband arrived to bring her home, after months of searching and worry, he's nearly murdered for his efforts!"

Rose closed her eyes and shook her head. She dreaded speaking, dreaded being questioned by this vile man, and yet, refuting his lies would be a kind of relief.

...

They were all exhausted by the day's end. Harry came over to speak to them as they left, but Jack led Rose away. She leaned against him, too wrung out to care if their picture was taken. They walked home as a group. Little was said. When they reached the Dawson house, Billy and Adam squeezed Rose's hands and smiled encouragingly. She smiled back.

"It'll be alright," Tom said.

"I know," Rose said. "Thank you."

"I'll be home soon," Lucy said.

"I'll get some dinner made," Fabrizo offered. "Lucia, you wanna help?"

"Maybe in a minute," Lucy replied. She gave him a quick kiss. "Why don't you and Jack go on inside?"

Jack looked at Rose. "You can go," she said. Hesitantly, he went.

"I thought you might like to talk," Lucy said.

"I don't know what to say," Rose said.

"Let's walk," Lucy suggested.

They headed down the path that led to the lake, oblivious to the darkness looming around them. After what they'd experienced, a dark forest held no threats. "Do you think about it?" Lucy asked.

"All the time. Do you?"

"Yeah," Lucy said. "I can't help it. The thoughts just come. It's more than remembering. It's like I'm there, and it's all happening again."

"I feel that way too," Rose said. "Sometimes I know why. Something reminds me of him. But other times, it just happens. It's worse then. I don't feel like I can trust myself or anything else. Nothing is safe. I can't tell Jack. He won't understand, not really. He's had things happen, but..."

"Not like this," Lucy finished.

"Not like this."

"He knows that," Lucy said. "He knows he doesn't have a clue. Fabrizo doesn't get it either."

"I love him for trying anyway."

"Me too," Lucy said. "Is it worse for you now?"

"I don't know," Rose answered. "I can't remember what I felt like before I was afraid of Cal. After a while, I wasn't so much afraid of him anymore; I was mostly just numb from it all. That changed when I met Jack. I thought I was getting over it. I don't know if I ever will now. I'm afraid, no matter what happens, I'll always wonder if he's there, waiting for me, for us." Rose shook her head. "You don't have to listen-"

"I want to," Lucy said. "Talking helps. And there's some things you can't tell other people, no matter how much you love them. I can't tell Fabrizo what I've been hearing."

"What did you hear?"

"Nothing important," Lucy said. "Just talk. About us being together. About how it's not right." Anger burned in her eyes. "From people who think they're too good to speak to him, and me now."

"That's terrible," Rose said.

"It wouldn't be so bad, if it weren't coming from people I've known all my life," Lucy replied. "I thought these people were friends. I know this isn't a big town, and there's always gossip, but I've never heard anything so vicious. I didn't know people here felt that way. I don't care what they say about me. They've been talking about me for years. First for spending so much time with Jack, and then, after he left, they blamed me."

"It wasn't your fault."

"I know," Lucy said. "But that didn't stop some people from saying I drove him away." She crossed her arms over her chest. "I can't stand the things they're saying about Fabrizo, but there's nothing I can do about it. No-one would listen even if I tried to tell them the truth."

"I tried to tell people about Cal," Rose said. "My mother and a few of my friends. I never got very far. They didn't want to hear it. It's easier to pretend everything's fine."

"People knew?"

Rose laughed dryly. "They knew."

"That's horrifying. And they didn't help?" Lucy said.

"No-one offered, until Jack. And now I have to hear all over again what a fine, upstanding man I married. How he would never hurt anyone," Rose spat. "How I'm exaggerating. Making it up."

"Fabrizo asked if I wanted to stay home today," Lucy said. "He told me not to testify, if I didn't want to."

"Are you going to?"

"Are you?" Lucy asked.

"I have to," Rose said. "No matter how much it hurts, I can't let the lies stand any more. Even if no-one believes me."

Lucy took her hand. "I'll believe you. And I'll be there with you. You won't be doing this alone."

"Neither will you."

...

Day one was over. Cal sat in his cell, hardly feeling the lumpy mattress on his cot. He didn't care when vegetable was served for dinner, again, or when he was given day old bread. What did any of that matter now? He'd seen Rose, and more importantly, he'd seen the fear in her eyes. Jack could glare all he liked, but he knew the truth. Rose wouldn't talk, and even if she did, who would listen?


	28. Chapter 28

**AN: Thanks for reading and for the kind reviews! I'm really glad so many people enjoy this story. It gets a bit, ah, intense toward the end.**

Everyone was staring at her. Rose sat stiffly, hands folded in her lap. Her heart seemed to beat slower, but her stomach was tied in knots. The crowd was a blur. She focused her gaze on Jack. He sat with the others, in the same spot as the day before. His eyes were hopeful. He offered her an encouraging smile. She wished she were still next to him.

"You don't hafta do this," Jack had told her, just before they came inside. He caressed her cheek with his thumb. His blue eyes loomed above her, so kind and understanding. It made Rose feel even worse. How could she have done this to him? If not for her, he'd still be off on an adventure somewhere. He'd be free.

"I do," she said.

He nodded. "Alright. You'll be great. It'll be over before you know it."

Rose doubted that, but she didn't argue. He kissed her, and she fought the urge to cling to him.

The prosecution went first. She took a breath as Charlie walked toward her. They hadn't gone over her testimony. He was reluctant to ask about the events that led her to Jack, let alone the attack. If it were up to him, neither she nor Lucy would be allowed to testify. This wasn't a situation for women.

"We'll try to keep this brief," he said. "I know it must be difficult for you to relive these events."

"I can manage," Rose said.

"Why don't you start by telling us about your marriage. What were your reasons for leaving your husband?"

"I didn't want to be with him," she answered. "Our marriage was arranged, to be honest I had little say in the matter."

"So, if it were up to you," Charlie said. "You wouldn't have married him?"

"No," Rose said. "I can't say I would. I did so out of financial necessity. My mother and I were left with nothing after my father's death, and this was a way to take care of her. I did what any child would've done."

"Aside from that, why did you leave?" Charlie asked. "If he provided you and your family with a home and financial stability?"

"There were many reasons," Rose said slowly. A chill settled over her. Goosebumps popped up across her body. "He was unpredictable. Emotional. He was difficult to please. Violent. Cruel." She felt Cal's eyes on her. His glare burned like ice, and she shivered. She looked into Jack's eyes. He nodded. "Go on," he mouthed. "You can do it."

Rose twisted her hands together. The air was thick with murmurings. "He treated you badly," Charlie said. "He didn't behave like a husband should."

Rose heard herself laugh. "That's one way of describing it." Without meaning to, she turned and met Cal's gaze. Surprise flashed in his eyes, but they remained cold. His lip curled contemptuously. His hands were clenched under the table. Rose saw them. She knew what he was thinking. She knew what those fists were for.

She sat a little straighter, keeping her eyes on him. She'd come this far. "The months I spent with him were worse than anything I could've imagined," she said, her voice ringing out confidently. "At first I wondered what I'd done to deserve it. I wondered how I could stop it. I tried everything. I did whatever he asked. Nothing worked. I realized it wasn't anything I'd done or that I wasn't doing. It was just who he was."

Cal leaned forward. He lay his hands flat on the table, flexing them. Gone was the smirk. His mouth was a thin line. Even in the chair, he seemed taller. Rose's stomach lurched. She knew that look well. Her voice faltered. She shivered again, and for a moment the room spun. She thought she heard Jack's voice. Where was he? She coudn't see him anymore. She couldn't see anything. It was dark. Cal loomed over her. His anger was palpable. She didn't know why, but it didn't matter. The outcome was always the same. She shrank back, tears already springing to her eyes.

"Rose!" Jack cried. He leapt around the table and across the room. Judge Fredrickson banged his gavel. "Young man, sit down," he ordered. Jack ignored him. Charlie watched Rose, perplexed. What was going on? She lay in the chair, trembling, as if in a trance.

Heedless of everything else, Jack knelt down next to her. "Rose," he said. He touched her face with his fingertips. Her eyes were wide with fear, but she didn't see him. Slowly, he put his hands on hers. "Rose, it's me," he said. "You're safe." He felt her tremble. His first instinct was to pull her close, but he didn't, sensing that touching her too much might make things worse. "No-one can hurt you," he went on.

"You need to sit down," Fredrickson said. The room hummed with voices and the click of cameras.

"What's happening?" Lucy said.

"I don't know," Fabrizo replied.

Cal smiled to himself. Just as he predicted, she wouldn't say anything. His smile was quickly replaced by a look of concern. He glanced at Milton as he got up, but he made no move to stop him. By now, the baliff had come over to see what was wrong. Cal joined the growing circle around Rose, unnoticed at first. If he'd tried, he could probably have walked out.

"It's alright," Jack said soothingly. He touched her arm. "Look at me, Rose."

Rose's eyes focused. She blinked. "Jack? What-" Her words were lost as she caught sight of Cal. He leaned toward her, his hand out. "No," she whispered, shaking her head.

"What is it?" Jack asked. He turned. His eyes narrowed. "What are you doing?" he cried. "Get away from her!"

Fredrickson banged the gavel, calling for order, but there was no use. The crowd seemed to erupt. Jack was on his feet, between Cal and Rose. "I told you to get away from her," he snapped.

"She's my wife," Cal said icily.

"Not anymore."

Cal moved closer. "That's what you think," he sneered. He reached out to push Jack aside, but he wouldn't budge. Jack grabbed his arm. "You're not gonna touch her," he warned.

"Are you threatening me? _You_?" Cal laughed. He tried to wrench his arm free, but Jack's grip was iron.

"I'm just telling you how it's gonna be," Jack said. He shoved Cal back. "Get away from her."

"Keep your hands off me!" Cal snarled.

"Why? You didn't keep them off Rose."

They stared at each other, their faces inches apart, just waiting for the other to move.

"Jack?" Rose's voive was faint. She could barely be heard above the din. Jack whirled around. "Rose?" he said. She was on her feet, clutching the arm of the chair. Her cheeks were pale. She wore a dazed expression. Jack moved toward her.

The judge was calling for the baliff to seize Cal, but before he could, Cal lurched forward, placing a heavy fist in Jack's stomach. Jack doubled over, gasping. Rose screamed. Cal raised his fist, only to find a handcuff closing around his arm.

...

Rose sat at the table, a blanket clutched around her shoulders. Fabrizo was at the stove, cooking. He'd been cooking since they came home. Upstairs, Jack was building a fire in their room. The kitchen was warm and full of delicious smells, her favorite Italian dishes, in fact, but Rose barely noticed. Shivering, she pulled the blanket tighter, though she knew it wouldn't make a difference. The cold went too deep for that.

Lucy and her brothers had gone home. Lucy offered to stay, but Rose just shook her head and told her it wasn't necessary. Lucy squeezed her hand. "You sure?" she asked.

"It's fine," Rose said.

Fabrizo walked her to the door. "She's not fine," Lucy said, once Rose was out of earshot.

"Jack can handle it," Fabrizo replied. He put an arm around her. "What about you? How do you feel?"

"I'm alright. I wasn't the one up there today."

"You'll be up there tomorrow," he reminded her. "Are you sure you can handle it?"

"I can handle it."

"Rose said that too."

"She's had to deal with a lot more than me," Lucy said.

Rose looked up as Jack came in. He smiled, and she tried to return it, but her effort was half-hearted. He sat down next to her and took her hand. "You hungry?" he asked.

"Not really."

"You've gotta eat something," he said. "It's warm upstairs. We can go up after dinner."

"Alright."

"Rose..." Jack wanted to say more, but the words wouldn't come. He didn't know what she needed to hear. Reassurances weren't enough, if they had ever been.

...

Rose curled up next to him like a kitten. Her head lay on Jack's shoulder; his arms wrapped around her. Lady was against her feet. Even through the thick quilts, Rose felt her comforting presence. Jack kissed her forehead. "I love you," he said.

She pressed her face into his neck. "I love you too."

Jack didn't know when he fell asleep. Rose's nightmare woke him up. "It's alright," he said. "Rose, wake up." He gave her a gentle shake. "It's just a dream."

"It's not." He heard tears in her voice. "Jack, it's more than that."

"I know it feels that way," he said. "But he can't hurt you."

"He can hurt all of us," she said, unconvinced. "I was crazy to think he couldn't."

"Not from jail, Rose." He turned up the lamp. "He can't do anything."

"He hit you today, didn't he?"

"That doesn't count. He just got lucky," Jack replied. "And I'm fine."

"I saw how much it hurt," Rose said.

"I didn't say it didn't hurt. Sure it hurt, but there's no real damage." He placed her hand on his stomach. "See? Nothing."She pressed tentatively. Jack's expression didn't waver. "Not even a bruise," he said.

"Maybe not this time," she said. "But if he managed it once-"

"Rose. Please, Honey-Rose, believe me," he begged. "I know it's hard, but-"

"You don't know." Her words startled her. Had she really said that? "I'm sorry, Jack. I know you're trying, but you don't know. You can't. Not really. What's happened, the way it's left me...I don't even understand it completely."

"I wish I could just feel it for you," Jack said quietly.

"I'd never let you."

"Do you wanna tell me about it?" he asked. "Would that help?"

There was a long pause, and then Rose said, "It's more than being afraid. I carry these feelings around. Sometimes I don't notice them, but then other times, I can't feel anything else. Just dread. Terror in my bones. Something's happening. I know it is, or it will. It doesn't matter where I am."

"Is that when stuff scares you?"

She nodded. "I was doing so well. Jack, I thought I was getting over it, and now, I'm not sure I ever will. What happend today..."

"Rose, what did happen?"

"I looked in his eyes," she said. "I was looking at you, but then I looked at him. It seemed right at the time, like of course I would look at him while I told everything. He'd see I wasn't broken." Her voice faltered. "But I am."

Jack held her tighter. "No, Rose, you're not," he said. "He wants you to think that."

"I panicked. I don't know how else to describe it," she said. "Suddenly, it was just me and him. I knew what was coming, what he'd do. You were gone. I didn't know where you were, if he'd hurt you. The look in his eyes...He was going to kill me-"

"Rose."

She kept going, barely hearing him. "He would have, that night. I only survived because of Lucy and her brothers. I fought back, but it wasn't enough. It was never enough." A sob caught in her throat. Jack crushed her to him. "Rose," he murmured into her hair. "Rose. Rose." He felt her tears on his neck. "Don't think like that," he said. "I don't know what I'd do if something happened to you."

...

Dawn filtered through the curtains. Rose lay awake, watching Jack sleep. His arms were still wrapped solidly around her. She couldn't move without disturbing him. He didn't wear his usual, peaceful look. Instead, his brows were knit, and he frowned. She touched his face, half-hoping she could smooth out the tension.

It worked, in a way. He smiled, his eyes opening a crack. "Hey," he murmured.

"Hello."

"You alright?" he asked. She nodded. He kissed her forehead. "Been awake long?"

"No," she said.

"Want me to let you up?"

"No," she said, with a small shake of her head.

Jack kissed the tip of her nose, and then her mouth. His hand moved over her back. "You're so tense," he said.

"So are you, Jack."

He shrugged one shoulder. "Nothing to worry about." His blue eyes were solemn, but Rose saw something else in them. She couldn't quite name it. "But you, well, that's different," he added. He kissed her again before gently rolling her onto her stomach. He pulled her hair back. His lips brushed her ear, and he whispered, "Do you trust me?"

"I trust you. Of course."

He moved to slip her nightgown over her head. "Can I?"

"Yes."

He kissed her neck. Slowly, he began rubbing circles in her shoulders with his thumbs. Rose sighed. "How's it feel?" he asked.

"Rather good."

Jack grinned. He moved down her back, using his whole hands now. He followed them with kisses. Rose made a small noise in her throat. He kept going, working his way down her legs, to her feet. When he finished, she lay across the pillow, breathing slowly, all the knots in her body untangled. She looked at him over her shoulder. He leaned down and kissed her. "Thank you," she whispered.

"I'm not done, Petal."

Rose gave him a curious look. Jack just grinned and rolled her onto her back. He kissed her neck, slowly moving from one side to the other. Her breathing quickened. He bit down, ever so gently. The soft noise in her throat returned. "Do you like that?" he asked.

"Jack, I always liked that."

"I know," he said. There was an unspoken but, which he ignored. He looked down into her eyes. He saw trust in them, and the flicker of desire.

Jack lightly ran his fingertips across her breasts. A small groan escaped his lips. She was so soft. No-one else could possibly feel like this. Her nipples hardened beneath his thumbs. He glanced up at her. Rose nodded. Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes glassy.

He held her breasts in his hands. Even now, he marveled at how well they fit. He took one in his mouth, and then the other, gently suckling. Rose arched her back. Her hands found his hair, and she moaned.

He kissed her belly, his hands on her hips. He brushed her underwear. "Can I?" he asked again.

Rose's voice was thick. "Don't stop now, Jack."

He slid them off and tossed them aside. For a moment, Jack just gazed at her. Had he really thought other women were beautiful before her? As an artist, he understood they were, but how could he have thought so as a man? "Oh, Rose," he breathed.

He touched her legs, and she parted them, lifting her hips. Starting at her knees, he kissed his way up her thighs, giving the occasional, light nip as he went. Her eyes were closed now. Jack took hold of her hips again. His tongue flicked out, lightly touching the center of her desire. Rose sucked in her breath, her hands twisting in his hair. "Jack."

His movements were slow and deliberate. Teasing. God, she was delicious. Intoxicating. Like sweet flower petals and nectar.

Rose forgot about being heard. For a brief, precious time, she forgot everything.

...

The trial was being postponed. Judge Fredrickson ruled more time was necessary to determine if new charges should be added for Cal's attack on Jack. He also wanted time to consider the entire scene, including Rose's part in it. They didn't know what that meant, but it sounded vaguely ominious. Harry tried to assure Jack it wasn't, but when he told Rose about it, Jack left that part out.

Milton saw this as a perfect opportunity. Cal still wasn't cooperating with his defense plans, insisting that Rose would never go through with her testimony. "You saw what happened," he argued. "She'll never manage to get that far again. She's incapable of it, poor thing." He tried to sound sympathetic but failed.

"We can use that," Milton said. "She's emotionally unstable. Doesn't know what she's doing. It's not her faut. Assuming, of course, you want to stay married to her," he added. "After all this is over."

Cal looked aghast. "Are you suggesting I divorce her?"

"Well, it wouldn't be unheard of," Milton replied. "Plenty of men have divorced their wives for less."

"That's what she wants." Cal's eyes grew thoughtful. "But do I want to live with her again?" His mouth curled in disgust. Just thinking about her with Jack made him sick. No, he wasn't sure he could ever touch her again. But did that matter? There were other women, other ways of finding pleasure.

And yet.

 _She_ was _his_ , and nothing could change that. Divorce or no divorce, Rose would always belong to him. She tried to leave, and he'd shown her the error in that. He could do it again. Only this time, he wouldn't fail. Exactly what that entailed, Cal wasn't sure. When he thought about Rose a dark, gaping hole opened inside him. It was worse than anything he'd ever felt; the anger burned hotter, the lustful thrill of it ran deeper.

"What we need," Milton said. "Is a change of venue. It's ridiculous we're still here. I don't know why I didn't try for it earlier."

"I didn't want this getting out," Cal reminded him. "But you don't care about that."

"It was going to get out sooner or later. At this point, you need all the sympathy you can get, and I don't know how much you'll get here," Milton mused. "People don't seem to care for her, but the other two, Dawson and that McCullough girl, they're a different story. People around here know them. They like them. That girl has family here. They've got influence."

"How much influence could they possibly have?"

"Enough," Milton said. He tapped his chin. "Yes, I think that's what we'll do."


	29. Chapter 29

Jack didn't know about Milton's plans; all he knew was the trial was postponed, and there was a chance Rose wouldn't be involved thanks to what happened. If he was honest with himself, he had to admit he wasn't entirely upset about that possibility. He didn't want Rose exposed like that again. It was bad enough the first time. Who knew what might happen if she went up there a second time?

"We're going to Chicago," he announced over breakfast. He'd come to the decision without even thinking about it. Rose gave him a puzzled look. "We are?" she said.

Fabrizo glanced up from his oatmeal. "Why?"

"Me and Rose are," Jack said. "You can too, if you want." He turned to Rose. "Remember how we were gonna go find a lawyer so you can have the divorce?"

"Jack, you want to do that now?" she said.

"Yeah. I think we should do it now," he replied. "The only reason we haven't is because of everything that's been going on. With the trial delayed, why not? You know you'd feel better if it were all over with, or at least in the works. And with Cal locked up..." He saw hesitation in her eyes. Putting his hand on hers, he added, "I just think it would be good. This way, no matter how things turn out, you're free."

Rose smiled and gave his hand a squeeze. "Maybe you're right," she said. "Maybe we should go."

"We'll leave today," Jack said.

...

Fabrizo decided to stay home. "This is yours to do," he explained. "You should be alone for it. Besides, someone should stay and look after things here." He didn't add that someone should be around to keep up with new trial developments. He suspected part of Jack's reason for going now was to get Rose away from it.

They left on the noon train. They weren't gone five minutes before at least a dozen stories about where they went and why began circulating. Fabrizo heard snatches of conversation as he drove back through town, but he ignored it. He burrowed into his coat, eager to be back home in the warm kitchen. The sky was already dark, and he could tell the temperature had dropped since he left. No, he wouldn't going anywhere else today.

...

Fabrizo was awakened by loud, insistent knocking. His chair was tilted back, resting against the wall; one foot held him steady. He looked around, startled by the sudden burst of sound. Had they come back? Was the door even locked? After what happened, Jack kept the doors locked, something he'd never done before, but Fabrizo couldn't remember feeling the urge to lock it. Who would be threatening him?

Of course, there were a few people in town who felt very much like issuing a threat or two after seeing him with Lucy in court, but he didn't think about that.

Fabrizo broke into a wide grin when he saw Lucy standing on the front porch. She was hunched over, coat tight around her. "Aren't you going to let me in?" she said, impatiently, but with a grin.

"Of course," Fabrizo said. "I didn't expect you."

"I didn't know I'd be coming over," she said. "But I found myself alone, and well..." She shrugged. "I wanted to see you."

"I'm glad you came." He took her hand. "Come into the kitchen where it's warm."

"What were you doing?" she asked.

"Sleeping."

Lucy laughed. "In the middle of the day?" She draped her coat across a chair. "Where is everyone?"

"I didn't plan it," he replied. "I guess I needed the nap," he added, with a chuckle. "Jack and Rosa are on their way to Chicago. They went to find a divorce lawyer."

Lucy raised an eyebrow. "Really? And they went all the way down there?"

"Jack insisted. They have to get the best."

"I can see his point," she said. "That Cal guy's going to fight them, even if he stays in jail."

Fabrizo put his arm around her waist. "He'll stay there."

Without thinking, she leaned against him. "I'm not worried about that," she said. "I mean, I'm not worried about him coming after me. Why would he do that? I'm nobody to him. No, what worries me is that he won't ever be punished for what he did. It's not right the way people treat him." She wore a frown. "Did you know people think he's innoccent? People right here in town, people who've known me all my life, and they think I'm making it up!"

"No-one believed Rose either," he pointed out.

"I know, but...I guess I thought I was different, you know? I just figured those people weren't like us. All that money. How could they be the same?"

"I know what you mean," he said.

Lucy sighed and put on a smile. "I didn't come here to go over all that again."

"What did you come here for?" he asked flirtatiously.

She leaned forward, brushing her lips against his. "Well, I didn't expect to find you alone."

He pulled her closer as they kissed, wrapping both arms around her. Her hands pressed against his shoulders. The kiss was heavy with unexplored passion. Finally, after what felt like hours, they parted.

Lucy's eyes shone. Fabrizo had to force himself to let go of her. "Do you-do you want something to eat?" he asked.

She nodded. "Sure."

...

"I can't believe you cook like this every day," Lucy said. A sauce was simmering on the stove, and the table was covered with bread ingredients.

"I don't. Some days we eat leftovers. And some days we eat what Jack makes," he joked. "Or try to."

"Is his food really that bad?"

"No," Fabrizo said. "But compared to mine..." He shrugged, grinning. "He knows cooking's not his skill."

"Well, this is just bread. Anyone should be able to manage that."

"Ah, but Lucia, this is Italian bread," he said. "It's very different. Requires more."

"Like garlic?" she said jokingly.

"Not just that." Fabrizo stepped behind her. "Do you mind?" he asked, placing his hands over hers. Lucy shook her head. "You have to knead differently," he explained.

Lucy's heart beat faster. His hands were strong, but he held her gently. His breath blew against her ear, and she was sure she heard his heart beat. He was so close. Jack was the only person who had ever come this close to her. But she wasn't thinking about Jack now.

...

She should go home. She should've already left, hours ago, but Lucy ignored the voice in her head urging her to go. So what if she was a little late for dinner? She'd been late before. Her brothers didn't need her to cook for them. They were perfectly capable.

But they wouldn't like her being alone with Fabrizo like this. She couldn't deny that. And yet, the very fact that she wasn't supposed to, made it all the more thrilling.

"It's getting late," Fabrizo said casually. He glanced out the kitchen window. It was nearly dark, but he could see thick clouds covering the sky. "Looks like rain." He sucked in his breath as she came up behind him. Her hand brushed his arm.

"I think those are snow clouds," she said. "Wouldn't it be funny if a blizzard kept the trial stalled? Cal and his lawyer would love being stuck here for weeks."

Fabrizo kept his voice level, despite the flutter in his stomach. "Should you go home? I mean, should I take you?"

"I don't have to go yet," Lucy said. "It's not snowing."

"Still..." Their eyes met, and he trailed off. The air grew thicker around them, and they both sensed something was coming, something they wouldn't be able to walk away from.

"Do you want me to go?" she asked.

He shook his head. "But that doesn't mean you should stay."

Lucy took his hand. "Tell me to go, and I will."

"Lucia."

"Tell me," she insisted.

"You know what people will say."

"I don't care," she said.

...

Night had set in by the time Jack and Rose arrived in Chicago. A sharp wind blew in from the lake, and they huddled together in a taxi, shivering. Nothing was said about the cost. Rose didn't even protest when they checked into an expensive hotel. She was too frozen and overwhelmed to do anything but let Jack lead her upstairs.

The room wasn't lavish, but they did have their own bathroom, which told Rose more about the price than anything else. She suspected Jack had done it for her. Sharing a tub with strangers didn't seem like the sort of thing that would bother him.

"You didn't have to do this," she said.

"Do what?"

Rose waved her hands, gesturing toward the room. "This."

"We had to stay somewhere," Jack replied amiably.

"Jack, you know what I mean. You didn't have to spend this kind of money. I would've been perfectly fine somewhere else."

"I know. I wanted to," he said. "I don't wanna do it all the time, but it's nice to spend a little money now that we have it." He took her hands. "And this is a special trip," he added.

"Do you honestly believe we can find a lawyer capable of extracting me from my marriage?" Rose asked.

He nodded. "I do."

"Because we have money now," she said.

"That helps, but also because we're right," he said. "That's what matters."

"I wasn't aware goodness always prevailed. I thought it was generally the other way around. No good deed and all that."

"I wouldn't say always," he replied. "But more than you think. Cal's gotten away with too much for too long. He's due for a loss." Jack pulled her closer and kissed her lovingly. "Don't worry, Rose."

...

They found a lawyer in the telephone book. It wasn't the most conventional method, but since they knew nothing about the firms the city had to offer, Jack figured it was as good a way as any. They flipped through and made a list of names that stood out to them. After breakfast, they set out. It took three tries before they found someone willing to take on their case.

Eugene Cohen was bright and ambitious. Since entering the practice, he'd successfully tried dozens of cases and negotiated settlements in others, but he hadn't done anything spectacular. He'd fallen into family law without meaning to; one case led to another, and he'd discovered it was a good, steady income. He'd built a solid reputation. But that lack of at least one spectacular case, one memorable victory, nagged at him. He'd given up hope of finding it. Most people with the means to hire a divorce lawyer wanted things kept as quiet as possible. There was no courtroom theater, no way for his talents to truly shine.

Until now.

"I'll be happy to take your case," he said, careful not to sound too eager. The truth was, Rose's story touched him. He genuinely wanted to help her, and if he could help himself gain a little notoriety in the process, where was the harm? From what she'd told him, her husband was the sort who made scenes, one way or another.

"You will?" Rose said, shocked. She exchanged glances with Jack. "Mr. Cohen, you understand my husband is a powerful man. A man with a wealthy, well-connected family. He's a formidable opponent."

"I understand," Eugene said. "And I can see your point, but I assure you, I'm quite up to the task. I haven't represented anyone in such a-" He searched for the right word. "Complicated case," he said. "But I have experience. I know what I'm doing."

Jack looked him in the eye, holding his gaze for a long moment. Finally, he said, "Can you win?"

Eugene nodded. "I can."

"Alright," Jack said. He reached into his coat pocket and produced a stack of bills. Rose's eyes widened. "Jack-" she began. He laid the money on the desk. "That's what we're paying you for," Jack said.

...

"That was a lot of money, Jack." Rose spoke softly. The halls of the Art Institute demanded hushed tones. They hadn't seen anyone else yet.

"I know it was," Jack said. "It's worth it. We couldn't make this happen cheaply."

"You really trust him?"

"Yeah, I do," he replied. "Don't you?"

"I don't know. It sounds too good to be true."

Eugene had explained how everything would work. According to him, Rose could divorce Cal quickly and smoothly since he was in jail. Unless he was released before it went through, he wouldn't be able to contest. "She'll just argue desertion and cruelty," Eugene said.

"Few people are willing to believe that," Rose said.

"That was before," Eugene replied. "When it was just you."

"How long will it take?" Jack asked.

"A few weeks, at most," Eugene said. "Mexico and Nevada, those are the states with easy divorce laws, but I'm guessing you don't have time to establish a residency."

Jack shook his head. "No."

"We don't need to," Eugene said. "I know some tricks. Trust me."

Rose wanted to believe him, but it couldn't be as simple as he made it out to be. "Maybe it is," Jack said. "Maybe Cal just wants you to believe it's impossible."

"I'm sure he wants that," Rose said. "I just..."

"What?"

"I don't want you throwing your money away," she said.

"Rose, it's our money," Jack said. "And we're not. This has to happen. You know that."

"I know."

He lay his hand against her cheek. "Let me worry about things for a while," he said.

Rose kissed his palm. "I'll try, Jack."

He smiled. "Good. Now, there's some paintings we need to see."

...

They awoke to a cold, bright day. As soon as she opened her eyes, Lucy realized her mistake. Fabrizo lay next to her, still fully clothed, wrapped in his own blanket. His arm was draped across her. Nothing happened, though not for lack of interest. And yet, she knew it didn't matter. She'd stayed with him, alone, and now there would be consequences. Lucy rolled onto her side. He slept so peacefully; she couldn't bear to disturb him.

The previous night's events replayed in her head. They'd eaten dinner and cleaned up. Nothing more was said about her leaving, though Fabrizo seemed distracted at times, as if he wanted to bring it up.

He looked at her, and her face felt hot. His dark eyes were soft, but they sparkled with desire. His hand brushed hers, and she sucked in her breath. A light blush covered his cheek, and he ducked his head. "Sorry," he said.

"Don't be. I don't mind."

"Lucia..."

"Yes?" she said.

When had she gottens so close? Fabrizo could smell her hair. It smelled like violets, and he wondered if the rest of her smelled that way too. The urge to pull her to him and find out was almost more than he could bear. He settled for letting his hand rest on her waist. "Do you mind that?" he asked.

Lucy shook her head. She felt his hand burn through her dress. Before she could stop herself, she kissed him. Fabrizo stiffened, and she feared he would push her away. But he didn't. He pulled her closer. She sighed with relief as she sank against him. Her arms wrapped around his neck. His hand tangled in her hair, and she deepened the kiss.

They were breathless when it finally ended.

"Do you want me to go?" she asked again.

"I'm afraid you shouldn't stay," he said. "What I want doesn't matter."

"What about what I want?" She kissed him, slowly this time. "I never thought I'd want another man," she whispered.

"Lucia."

"It's not like it was," she went on. "It's so much more now."

"Your reputation," Fabrizo reminded her.

"What reputation?" she said, with a laugh. In a serious voice, she asked, "Do you love me?"

"I love you. You know I do."

"That's all I care about," she said.

They went up to his room, and for a moment, Lucy was sure it was going to happen. Their kisses were frantic, and their hands moved feverishly. Desire welled up in her, and she felt a long lost ache. He felt it too. It was in his touch, his eyes, his voice. Fabrizo murmured in Italian, and it sent a shiver down her back.

But nothing happened. Lucy couldn't say exactly why, except that perhaps, they weren't quite as ready for that next step as they thought. Or maybe it was Fabrizo's fear of offending her family. If that was it, he'd failed by letting her stay at all. It didn't matter that all they did was sleep in each other's arms. No-one would ever believe that, and even if they did, the implication was too strong to ignore.

"Morning," Fabrizo said softly. He rubbed sleep from his eyes. "I didn't think you'd still be here."

"I wouldn't just sneak out," Lucy said.

"I thought you might, to get home before anyone notices."

"I'm sure they noticed," she said.

He frowned slightly. "They'll be worried. You should let them know you're alright."

"If I do, you won't be," she said.

"I expected that," Fabrizo replied ruefully. He considered for a moment. "What if we got married?"

"Aren't we already? Wait. Do you mean get married now?" Lucy gave him an incredulous look. "Just run off and do it?"

He nodded. "Yes, that's exactly what I mean. They'll be angry, but if we're married, what can anyone say?"

"Nothing, I suppose." She smiled. "Well, it's not as if people aren't talking already. Let's do it. Let's go."


	30. Chapter 30

They disappeared into the early morning. They took only what they'd need for a day or two. The plan was to head into Eau Claire and get married, quickly and quietly. Once it was done, nothing could be said. There might be comments about the haste of their marriage, but Lucy intended to maintain an elopment was their plan all along. In fact, if she was honest with herself, she had never quite been able of picturing a traditional wedding for them. Perhaps this was how it was meant to be.

She never considered going home for fresh clothes. It was simply impossible. Rose wasn't there to ask, but she figured borrowing a few of her things would be acceptable. There was a dress hanging on the back of the closet door. Lucy touched the skirt gingerly, overwhelmed by its loveliness. Did she dare? She had no way of knowing it was the dress Rose planned to give her, but something told her to take it.

Fabrizo left plenty of food and water for the animals and locked everything up tight. A note for Lucy's brothers was placed under a rock on the front steps. It was only a matter of time before they came looking for her. She was surprised they hadn't arrived already, demanding to know what was going on.

They waited up all night for her, and sometime after midnight they out searching. "It's not like her to do this," Billy said. "You don't think something happened, do you?" He glanced from Adam to Tom. Their faces were heavy with worry. The memory of the last time Lucy didn't come home was still fresh.

"What could've happened?" Adam said. "There's no-one who..." He trailed off, unwilling to put the possibilities into words.

"She might've hurt herself," Billy said.

"Maybe," Tom said thoughtfully. His worry was real, but he wasn't panicking yet. What happened with Cal wasn't likely to happen again, and while it was possible Lucy was injured somewhere between the Dawson place and theirs, he just didn't believe it. He didn't want to admit it, but deep down, Tom knew exactly where she was. He should've seen it coming. All the time she'd been spending with Fabrizo. She was always an impulsive, emotional girl, and things were so crazy lately. No doubt the melodrama of Jack and Rose's romance had gotten her attention. He sighed. There was nothing to be done about it now. Sure, he could go over there and bring her back, assuming they were still there, but what good would that do?

He didn't want her breaking up with Fabrizo. He wasn't the problem. Tom rather liked him. He was a good man. He'd be a good husband for Lucy. No, the problem was Lucy going off without thinking, leaving them to wonder and worry. He didn't approve, far from it, but he knew enough to know causing a scene would only alienate his sister.

"Let's look around a little more and then head home," Tom said. "She'll probably be back soon."

But morning came, and still she wasn't home. Tom had to admit things had gone further than he expected. Young couples going off together wasn't unheard of, though it was generally kept as quiet as possible, for the sake of reputations. Swift marriages tended to follow. He was willing to grudgingly accept this for Lucy. At least she'd already been planning to marry Fabrizo. With everything going on, it would be easy to explain away the absence of a large wedding.

But then again, there was their father's reaction to consider.

...

"We should stay here a few more days," Jack said. He raised a forkful of pancake to his mouth. "Maybe a week." He glanced at Rose. "What do you think?"

"You don't think we should be getting back?" she asked.

He shrugged. "I don't see why. Trial's postponed. They don't need us for that," he replied. "Fabrizo can handle things at home. He's probably enjoying the quiet. And you know, I think we should talk to Eugene more. He's filing the papers today. We should stay close and see what happens."

"What about what might happen at home?"

"Well, Fabrizo can get in touch with us," he said. "It's not so far. We can get back if we need to."

"You want me far away from there, don't you?"

Her eyes met his, and however much he'd like to, Jack couldn't lie. "Yeah, I do," he said. "I just think it's not good for you to be so close to him."

"When the trial starts again, I'll have to be there, Jack," she pointed out. "It can't be avoided."

"What if it could?" he said quietly. It wasn't the conversation he wanted to have, but he'd put them on the path to it. He may as well keep going.

"What are you saying? You want-"

"I'm not saying anything for sure," Jack said. "I just think it's worth considering."

Rose stared at him. "What is?"

"Whether or not you really want to go through with this. Whether it's worth what being up there does to you."

Rose spoke in a calm, deliberate voice. "I don't have to think about it, Jack. This isn't something I can walk away from. I have to see this through. No matter what happens. If I run now, I'll be running for the rest of my life. Can't you see that?"

"I don't want you to be hurt anymore," Jack said, pressing her hand. "After what happened that first day-"

"It was terrible. I can't bear the thought of experiencing that again, but even more, I can't bear the thought of Cal thinking he's won, that I'm afraid, that he has any power over me whatsoever." She held his gaze. "Jack, do you understand?"

He nodded slowly. "I do."

...

"How're you feeling?" Fabrizo asked.

Lucy smiled. "Good. You?"

He smiled back. "Good."

City Hall loomed before them. Lucy's heart beat wildly. It was really happening. No matter how many times she told herself, it still felt like a dream. Fabrizo squeezed her hand. She wondered if he felt the same way. She snuck a glance at him. His expression was serene. If he had any nervousness, he hid it well.

They went up the steps and walked inside. There were forms to fill out, questions to answer, signatures needed. The clerk didn't look terribly interested in them, which Lucy was grateful for. If he had been, he could've stopped them. He could've questioned her age. Where her parents were. Whether this marriage was actually supposed to happen. But he didn't.

And almost before they knew it, they were married.

...

Billy saw the note first. "Look," he said, unfolding the paper. His eyes scanned the words. Adam read over his shoulder.

"What is it?" Tom asked, even though he already knew.

"Well, it says they-" Billy hesitated, afraid of his brother's reaction. "They've gone-"

"They've eloped, haven't they?" Tom finished.

Adam nodded. "Yeah."

Tom took a deep breath. "I figured as much."

"What're we gonna do?" Billy said.

"Not sure there's much we can do," Tom replied. "They're long gone. We'll never find them in time to stop it."

"So, are you-are you okay with this?" Adam asked. "I mean, it's-"

"I'm not exactly happy about it," Tom said.

"Neither am I," Billy said.

Tom went on, ignoring him. "But at least they were already engaged," he said. "And we know this isn't..." Now it was his turn to hesitate. "They aren't..."

The other two nodded. "Right," Adam said.

"What made them do this?" Billy asked.

Adam shrugged. "They wanted to."

"It's gotta be more than that," Billy said.

"Does it?" Tom said. He looked off into the distance. "You know how Lucy is. When she sets her mind on something..." He sighed. "We just have to make the best of it." There was a time when his response would've been much sterner, harsh even, but after everything that had happened over the past few months, he just didn't have it in him anymore. He knew his brothers would follow his lead, though he could tell they were somewhat reluctant to embrace their sister's actions. No-one had mentioned their father, who was due home in the spring. It was as though they had all agreed not to tackle that problem yet. He'd been gone nearly a year; sometimes, they forgot he was coming back at all.

...

Rose tried to enjoy the paintings, but their previous conversation kept gnawing at her. Was that the only reason Jack wanted to come? To get her away from the trial? What could he possibly think that would accomplish?

No, she couldn't be that hard on him. She knew what he was thinking, and his heart was in the right place. He just wanted to protect her. And yet, she couldn't let it go. Would there ever be a time when Jack didn't feel compelled to protect her? When he wouldn't worry about how she would react to everything? When he wouldn't try to stand between her and the world?

It wasn't something she could ask.

"You alright?" Jack said.

"Fine."

"You just seemed...distracted, I guess," he said.

"I was thinking about the painting," she replied.

"Not worrying?"

Rose shook her head. "No. I'm not worried." She glanced at him. "I'll handle things, when we go back," she added. "It won't be easy, but I'll survive."

"That's not what I want for you, Rose."

"I can't see why it would be," she said. "But it's what I have." She touched his hand. "I need you with me, Jack."

"Of course. You know I'm with you."

"With me," she said. "Not shielding me."

"Can you blame me for trying?" he asked.

"No. And I'd like to stay a few more days. You're right. It's good for us to get away for a little while, and we probably should meet with Eugene again."

Jack smiled. "I'm glad you feel that way."

...

Things were progressing, albeit slowly, in their absence, and in ways they never would've imagined. Milton had been on the phone with Nathan all morning, and rarely had he ever said so little. Nathan was threatening to come out there, which was the last thing Milton wanted. He had enough trouble without him breathing down his neck in person. Men like him never understood the law, never quite grasped it couldn't always be manipulated to suit their needs. He was doing the best he could with what he had. Cal's obvious guilt was a problem, but, and he couldn't stress this enough, if he were allowed to display his full talents, that problem could be minimized.

Cal wasn't helping himself, however. Since the scene in the courtroom, he'd hardly said a word. He just sat in his cell, glaring. It was as if he didn't care what happened. The truth was, he cared a great deal; he simply assumed, even now, things would turn out in his favor. And why shouldn't he? Nothing in his previous experience had prepared him for any other outcome. As far as he was concerned, even if he'd killed Rose-Lucy was usually forgotten-he couldn't be blamed. She'd brought it on herself. Anyone could see that. They could see just what he had to deal with, being married to a girl like that. It was a miracle he'd gone this long without some sort of drastic action.

And also, there was what he'd do when he was finally released. His thoughts were consumed by the future.

...

It had taken more time than he cared for, but Milton finally managed to get an appointment with Judge Fredrickson. Charlie was there was well. Of course, Milton thought when he saw him. Nothing about this was easy.

"Well, what is it?" Fredrickson asked. "What couldn't wait until we reconvene next week?"

"Thank you for seeing me, Your Honor," Milton said. "I know you're busy-"

"Just tell me what's so important," Fredrickson said.

"I'd like to know too," Charlie said.

Milton's features froze; his smile twitched. "I believe we should discuss a change of venue," he said. "And it's a question that should be decided before we reconvene."

"Change of venue?" Charlie said. "Why should we talk about that?"

"Because my client isn't from here. He's been away from his home and business long enough," Milton replied. "There's no reason to keep him here. He can be tried just as easily in Pennsylvania."

"He committed a crime here," Charlie argued. "Why should he be sent back there? Just because he knows every judge on the bench?"

"I don't appreciate slander against my client," Milton said.

"It isn't slander when it's true," Charlie snapped. "I've read all about him and his family. They've never been held accountable for anything. That's going to change."

"If you're implying-"

"Enough," Fredrickson said. "I don't want to hear any more of this. He was arrested _here_. He broke the law _here_. I see no good cause to send him away for the trial. Our jail is perfectly adequate." Milton opened his mouth to protest. Fredrickson held up his hand. "I don't care who he is or how important he is back home. That changes nothing."

"Sir, I belive the local citizens are prejudiced against him," Milton said. "He's an outsider. Naturally, they assume the worst."

"I'm not an outsider," Fredrickson replied. "And I know these people better than you. They're perfectly able to come to a fair, rational decision about this matter. I've seen nothing so far to indicate otherwise."

"But Your Honor-"

"And furthermore," Fredrickson went on. "Your client has done himself more harm with his outbursts in court than any supposed prejudice the jury might have. We reconvene on Monday. That's my final decision."

Milton fumed as he left the courthouse. If he couldn't get the trial moved, he'd have to focus on the witnesses. Cal still believed Rose wouldn't be a problem, and he was inclined to agree with him. It was all she could do to get up on the stand once; he doubted she'd manage it a second time. But the other girl, she could be a real obstacle.

There was always a chance he could find a way to replace the judge. It was diffiuclt, but he'd managed it before.

...

They were even shyer than they had been the previous night. Lucy hadn't anticipated that. Wasn't marriage supposed to bring them closer? Fabrizo smiled over at her, and she smiled back. He touched her hand across the table. "How do you feel?" he asked.

"Good. You?"

"Good, still," he said.

"No regrets?"

"None about you," he replied.

"Are you worried about my family?"

"Yes," he said.

"Don't," Lucy said. "It'll be fine. They won't be happy at first, but they'll get over it. They already like you."

"You don't care what people will say?" Fabrizo asked. "You really don't?"

She shook her head. "No."

"So, what do we do next?"

"What do you mean?" she said.

"How long before we go home?"

"Tomorrow?" she suggested. "We didn't have a wedding, but we can have a wedding trip. A short one," she added with a laugh.

"Tomorrow sounds good," he said. "When we go back, where are we going?"

It was something they hadn't really discussed. Fabrizo had trouble seeing himself moving into the house with her brothers. There were so many personalities there already, and creating their own life would be nearly impossible. And yet, would living with Jack and Rose work? It would probably be better, though he doubted it could last for more than a year or two, at most.

"I thought we'd stay at your house," Lucy said.

"You mean Jack's."

"Well, I considered it yours also," she replied. "I got the impression so did he."

"He's a good friend," Fabrizo said. "Are you sure that's what you want?"

"It's the best choice, don't you think?"

"I do," he said.

...

"Well, I filed the paperwork," Eugene said. "It'll be at least a week before we know anything. The judge will have to review my petition. If we're lucky, he'll rule in our favor, and you won't have to deal with this anymore. It'll take a few months to be completely over, though. Don't forget this can be a slow process."

"We know," Rose said.

"And even if he takes our side," Eugene pointed out. "Your former husband can still contest it. Now, like I already told you, it's not likely he'll be able to do that while incarcerated, but-"

"A man like him can manage just about anything," Rose finished.

Eugene nodded. "Exactly. If that happens, we'll have to go to court."

"We know," Jack said. "We just wanted to check in."

Eugene nodded. "I understand. Perfectly normal reaction, especially in a case like this. I assure you, if anything new comes up, I'll let you know. You're staying in the area?"

"For a little while," Rose answered.

"That's good. It will make getting in touch with you easier," Eugene said. "We've filed in Illinois, so if we do have to go to court, it should be here. He won't like that very much. His lawyer will fight for a change of venue. He'll want things done closer to home."

"Of course," Rose said. "I'm surprised he hasn't done that with the trial."

"I'm sure he can't," Jack said. "His lawyer knows that."

...

"Do you think people can tell?" Lucy asked in a low voice. Despite the cold, the park was fairly crowded. They walked at a leisurely pace, hands clasped. The sky had threatened snow before they left home, but the clouds had dispersed, leaving a bright sky. "It's for us," Fabrizo said, when they saw it.

"Can tell what?" he said, with a teasing grin.

"That we just ran away and got married. Of course."

"Oh, that," he said. He looked around. "You know, I think they can. See those people over there? They're probably talking about it."

Lucy rolled her eyes. "You don't have to make fun."

"I wasn't," he said.

"Really?"

"Really, Lucia," he said. He put his arm around her. "I think they can tell we're happy," he said.

She leaned her head on his shoulder. "I want them to know."


End file.
